


In a Different Universe

by HowlingHooves



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Reapers, F/M, Paragon Shepard, Spectre Introductions, Treachery, partners
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:43:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowlingHooves/pseuds/HowlingHooves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Commander Shepard, the Commander Shepard from Elysium?” She had completely forgotten about the Turian behind her, and she blinked rapidly as she turned around and watched him curiously with a nod. “Nice work you did there, heard your shot with a sniper is unmatched among others of your rank. Garrus Vakarian, Spectre. It's a pleasure to meet one of recruits this year.” He told her, offering a hand and flaring his mandibles gently when she took it without hesitation.</p>
<p>-----------<br/>The story of Raquel Addison Shepard, first human Spectre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the Citadel

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to me, here I go posting up the story I've had sitting around in my files, being written but never shared. :D I guess being a quarter of a century year old made me want to change something about that, lol.
> 
> So here's Quel in all the glory of the actual story. I don't have any set time to update, but I've got a good chunk already written. Hopefully, I can get things out at least weekly or on a semi-weekly basis.
> 
> Any questions, comments or concerns can be directed to my inbox. I also do not have a beta-reader so I'm open to having mistakes pointed out so I can fix them. c:

The first time she set foot on an alien world had been something of a disappointment; it was all rock and ash, lava and a heat so intense she wondered if her suit would cook her from the inside out. Her duties there were short lived, thankfully, and she was pulled back to the Alliance Headquarters in London, where more disappointment met her while still in space.

The small frigate she was assigned to had been forced into shore leave, rumors spreading along the scuttlebutt line that their XO was playing loose and dirty. Shepard certainly believed it possible of the woman, Commander Freyholm; she wasn't the kindest woman and she certainly never gave any harsh treatment of others a second glance.

And then, just two days into the mandatory leave, Shepard was crouched behind a toppled and cracked pillar on Elysium with her Volkov model sniper, staring through her scope for a moment as she inhaled and exhaled slowly, calming her nerves while screams tore through her ears in every direction. Her shot was set loose with a gentle squeeze of the trigger and she ducked down before she could see her handiwork; the sharp cries of surprise told her all she needed to.

Hours passed, and all the while she helped to gather whoever was still alive; mostly civilians, many who had never shot a weapon in their lives, but after a very quick tutorial she had them holding a post in the lobby of what used to be a bank. Soon though, she watched as her ranks broke on her right and she rushed to block the hole that was created. In the aftermath, she was the only one to hold back the slavers who desperately tried to break through, and only when an Alliance force dropped ground ships and secured the area did she finally take a seat in the rubble.

Captain Anderson was the one to find her, to congratulate her on a job well done, and to take her home to London on the SSV Tokyo.

Months passed, and the attention was on Shepard as she was aptly named the Hero of the Skylian Blitz. Anderson took her on as his own XO, and she found she enjoyed being under him. With his new ship, the SSV Normandy, things took off with her new promotion and life went on easily for her.

That is, until she was pulled aside by Anderson after he announced they were to head to the Citadel. “Commander, I had a proposition for you. Admiral Hackett and Councilor Udina have been asked by the Council to speak with you, an opportunity I wouldn't pass up. Briefing is in your files, let me know before we dock if you're interested. Dismissed.” She had saluted, but she couldn't withhold the confused look on her face as she left.

In the mess, she opened her omni-tool and pulled up the briefing that Anderson spoke of, surprise leaving her slack jawed and completely engrossed in the file. She returned to Anderson’s quarters in a jumble of excited and worried steps. “They want me to be a Spectre? Why?” She blurted out, soon coming to attention even while Anderson chuckled lightly and turned to face her.

“Why the hell not? I got turned down, you know this, but they're recruiting again and have asked a human to join their elites. After what you've done, before you were assigned under me and during your time with me, it's a wonder you weren't asked before now. You and I both know you're deserving of the rank, and the training you'll receive will be worthwhile. Don't forget where this opportunity will take you; I know you like to see as much as you can, and with this you'll be able to do that and more.”

She huffed quietly to herself, her maroon hair shifting as she turned quickly and began to pace, the ponytail bouncing in step. “Anderson, I've done well here and I like being aboard the Normandy. We see plenty of space, and action! I get that this is a great opportunity, but I'm just one person and I really don't see how I've done all that much compared to others.” She told him honestly, her hands rising as she spoke with them.

“That right there is why, Shepard. You don't make a huge deal out of something that is, indeed, enormous. You keep your head on the ground, you keep cool under pressure. Shepard, you are just what they're looking for and the best example to show that humanity will do well alongside the Council races. You're the chance that we need.” He told her, standing and moving to her, stopping her pacing by holding her shoulders at arm's length. “Raquel, you've done exceptionally here but there's only so much one can learn without moving forward. We're docking soon, and I've already let Udina know you've accepted. I figured you wouldn't turn down something like this; he informed me you will have the remainder of today and tomorrow until the Council has agreed to meet with you and assign you under your mentor. Do me good, show them humanity can pull its weight with them.” He told her, and she half smiled at him, a blush on her face from the pride he felt for her.

“Thank you, Anderson. I'll make you proud.” Was all Raquel Shepard told him, purple-blue eyes full of fire and tenacity as she saluted the man she had come to call a surrogate father. Nodding, she left the room to pack her bag.

After disembarking from the Normandy she was overwhelmed by the enormity of the Citadel; the Presidium was absolutely gorgeous, and despite having been given directions to the embassies where she could pick up the pass Udina had for an apartment of her own, she stopped to take it all in. Anderson had said it was a courtesy granted to Spectres, formalities aside, and she was glad she wasn't required to get a place of her own in such a short amount of time.

Smiling, she turned around without looking beforehand, too engrossed with the beauty of the place, and ran straight into the back of a Turian. Gasping from the surprise, she clenched her eyes shut as she heard something falling to the ground and shattering, guilt washing over her in a tidal wave. “I am so sorry!” She apologized as she looked up to see the Turian, grey plated skin and blue markings across his face; she had never seen a Turian up close before, but she wasn't cowed in the slightest by the glare he was giving her nor the way he seemed to pull his mandibles against his face angrily. If that's what it was, at least; she had no idea.

“I'll replace it, if I can.” She told him, looking down to see the shattered crystal in front of him. “I should have been paying attention.” She explained worriedly, but the Turian seemed to ease up on his ferocity as he watched her. “First time on the Citadel?” He asked suddenly, his voice even and calm, easing her nervous gut as she nodded sheepishly.

“Don't worry about it, was just a gift from an unwanted admirer. Welcome to the Citadel… Commander.” He told her after turning around fully, his mandibles relaxing and flaring slightly; was that a smile he was giving her now? She straightened and smiled back at him gratefully, happy that she hadn't broken anything that he couldn't replace, or that he seemed to want.

“Thanks. Well, good luck with that admirer, I guess.” She told him before picking up her bag from where she had dropped it and beginning to step forward. She was stopped by a yelling behind them though, and her ponytail whipped sharply as she looked back see Anderson striding forward with a purpose. “Shepard, I almost forgot to give these to you. Good luck out there.” He told her after catching up, looking relieved that she hadn't disappeared completely. Taking the items he gave her, she smiled fondly at the old, worn books.

“Thank you, sir. I'll return them as soon as I can.” She told him, saluting with a grin before placing the books into her bag easily.

“Commander Shepard, the Commander Shepard from Elysium?” She had completely forgotten about the Turian behind her, and she blinked rapidly as she turned around and watched him curiously with a nod. “Nice work you did there, heard your shot with a sniper is unmatched among others of your rank. Garrus Vakarian, Spectre. It's a pleasure to meet one of recruits this year.” He told her, offering a hand and flaring his mandibles gently when she took it without hesitation.

“Glad to meet you, Vakarian sir. I look forward to the opportunity.” She told him with a smile, eyes bright and fiery as she shook his hand. Bidding farewell to Anderson, she was surprised when Garrus asked if she'd like a guide for the evening, though she was wary and told him such.

“No ulterior motives, just trying to learn about the newest recruit. And see what you've got, considering your choice of weaponry. I'm a sniper myself.” He admitted, and she smiled as she shook her head. “Of course I'd run into the local Spectre sniper just after docking. I might take you up on the offer, if you show me the best place to pick up some mods. Mine are completely out of date.” She told him, chuckling as they moved down the walkway.

She found she liked Garrus, and he seemed to enjoy her company as they talked shop; they compared their favorite models, mods and even gave each other a story or two. Soon enough, the lights of the Citadel dimmed slightly, marking that the night cycle was beginning, despite it still being rather bright, and Shepard was surprised at how fast time had flown speaking with Garrus. Rolling her shoulder beneath the strap of her bag, she was surprised to hear Garrus chuckle. “Here, I've got it for you. They've put you up where they put us all up, I'm sure. I can have your key directed to the building so you don't have to see your Ambassador; opposite directions, and I'm sure you'd probably rather take it easy for a while.” He offered, and she smiled but shook her head at the hand he stretched out to offer reprieve from her bag.

“That would actually be great, Garrus. I could use a bed.” She told him, and after he brought up his omni-tool and sent a quick message to Ambassador Udina, he confirmed that he was escorting Shepard to the apartments and would take care of getting her into her place. The Ambassador brushed him aside easily, sending the information on to the buildings caretakers, Garrus told her, before he hailed a skycar for them both.

“If you're hungry, there's a place just around the corner that serves levo food as far as I remember, but there's some places that would deliver something if you wanted to hole up. Anyway, it was good to talk with you, Shepard. Maybe we'll get to work together in the future.” He told her after they had stepped into the lobby of the building.

“Thanks, Garrus. Hope I didn't pull you away from anything important, I'd say I didn't appreciate someone showing me around but I'd be lying. Sounds like a plan though.” She smiled brightly at him as she extended her hand and shook his once again.

“No trouble on my part, I'd just pulled in before we bumped into each other.” His mandibles flared wide at the joke, a grin she had come to understand. “Can't meet with the Council until tomorrow anyway, was good to take a step back from everything for a little while.” He told her, and they soon parted ways after she picked up her key from the front desk and he exited the building again after looking through his messages.

Once in her room, sparsely furnished with the basics of an apartment, she tossed her bag on the bed and immediately headed for a shower. Once done, she pulled out some clothes and fell onto the bed after dressing comfortably, shorts and a mid sleeved top. With a tired but content sigh she fell asleep with a smile on her face, ignoring the fact that she still needed to unpack her bag and equip the mod Garrus had happily given her during their tour.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being inducted, meeting her mentor and a first mission!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in actually getting this chapter up. Life's been hectic and blah blah blah. There's no excuse regardless. I will try to get the next installation up before a three week mark, hopefully!
> 
> Any questions, comments or concerns are welcome in my inbox! c: No beta, but hopefully I picked out all the mistakes this time around... I do feel like this one is like.. immensely short but I don't believe I can add to it without doubling up with the next chapter. :x

The morning of her Council meeting was one of the busiest she had dealt with since the aftermath of Elysium; for Udina at least. She never had liked politics, and stuck as she was with Ambassador Udina it didn't help her state of mind. She listened to him drawl on and on for what seemed like days, and finally after only standing useless in his office for two hours he stood and beckoned her to follow to see the Council. The walk was brisk, and as her nerves shot through her gut like a knife she stamped them down after Udina gave her a look that warned her not to overstep any boundaries. She gave him a curt nod as she swallowed over the lump in her throat, eyes forward as they stepped out of the elevator and ascended the stairs.

She felt eyes on her even as she stood at ready behind Udina and to the side, trying not to show how nervous she truly felt. “Commander, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Your deeds have shown a great deal to us, and it is our hope that you will show that humanity can become the allies we have been trying to gain by offering you the rank of Spectre.” The Asari spoke, smiling while her Turian colleague seemed to grimace; the Salarian wasn't much different, though he seemed more in line with the Asari than their avian counterpart.

She listened and nodded when they asked her questions, Udina piping in when he felt the need. “Welcome to the Spectre’s, Commander. We've taken the liberty of assigning you to a mentor, and granted you a credit chit to stock up on any needed supplies once you have both gone over your mission parameters. Good luck, Commander.” The Asari smiled warmly at her, the two males nodding as Shepard dipped her head and turned around. Udina was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs, speaking with someone, and she was surprised to find a familiar face after joining them. “Commander, your mentor. I'll take my leave.” He told them, nodding to Shepard once before his quick stride took him out of view.

“Am I supposed to take it as coincidence that you've been assigned to mentor me, sir?” She asked Garrus, one eyebrow raised as she smiled. His dual toned chuckle made her laugh quietly as well.

“Any other time I'd say no, but they asked me last minute when Spectre Kryik reported in he'd be taking longer on his own mission to return in time. Good to see we will be working together after all, though. Come on, our ship is nearly ready and I've got the mission parameters there.”

She followed easily, falling into quiet conversation with him as they had the night before; they stopped at the apartment complex so they could both gather their bags and, after Shepard purchased a generous amount of food supplies for their mission, they soon headed for the docking bay his ship was waiting in.

It was a decently sized cruiser, much smaller than the Normandy still, but similar in design that she had to ask. “This used to be an Alliance ship?” Running her hand over a wall paneling with a frown, he nodded.

“It was, but the Alliance offered it as a gesture of good faith to the Council a couple years ago. I had just been set loose on my own and they gave it to me. That was after the Turian Councilor decided to give it an overhaul, but it's done well for the mixture of designs and tech.”

He gave her a quick tour before he left her to the crew quarters, the ship soon firing up quickly and departing. Once alone, she let out a blustering sigh and ran a hand down her face. She had already put her supplies away, it hadn't taken more than a few minutes to be sure her delivered crates were settled securely, and now she only had to unpack her gear; feeling suddenly hot in her armor, she decided it was the first thing that needed to go.

After pulling it off piece by piece and pulling the black, mesh undersuit off her body she was left in a black tee and a pair of dark grey shorts. Sighing as she felt less constricted, she bent down to pull her bag up and onto her bunk, pulling out what she needed. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she got to work cleaning her armor after laying her rifle out, and once finished she moved onto it.

Garrus walked in to see her adding the mod he had given her, the Volkov rifle looking worn beneath the sheen it held from numerous cleanings. Her tongue was sticking up out of her mouth slightly as she focused, eyes intent on her work before she pulled back with a grin and set her eye to the scope, fingers deftly pressing a button with practiced ease. “Still off.” She mumbled, pulling back and adjusting her sights with a downward pull to her mouth.

“The mod tends to do that, unfortunately. Give it a few degrees left and you should have them back to normal.” He offered, leaning against the wall near the open door. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke, he saw, and whirled fully to face him on her feet.

“Gar-Sir!” She called out, obviously startled as she stammered on. “I didn't hear you, sorry! I tend to lose my head when I clean my gear, kind of how I wind down.” Her face flushed as she caught herself before she kept going, and he saw as she bit her lip sheepishly to aid in her want to quit running her mouth.

“Don't get all formal now, we're colleagues, Shepard.” He chuckled as he pushed off the wall and sat down on the bunk across from hers. He hesitated for a moment before holding out a hand and looking to her rifle. “Uh.. Can I?” He asked, and her smile was bright as she handed him her Volkov.

He handled it like a veteran, gripping it easily and feeling it's weight before moving to look over the mods at the barrel and the amp added to the top. “You're a biotic?” He asked incredulously, blinking as he looked over the lithe form now sitting across from him. “Sorry, I didn't mean- It wasn't in your files.”

She laughed as she put up a hand to stop him. “You're not the first and you won't be the last. I have a small Arsenal of biotics! I've done my fair share of mopping the floor with my Flare, and Anderson always told me it was a blessing in a firefight. It was… Well, it's not listed because the Alliance wasn't too keen on my picking the skills up like I did; let's just say it wasn't a natural ability, or my choice.” She shrugged, her smile still in place even as Garrus’ eyes narrowed further. He could see her training fall into place, her silent refusal even with her smile, so he left the conversation where it settled for the time being.

“Remind me not to make you angry.” He muttered as he handed her rifle back. Swinging her eye up to the scope, she easily clicked her sights as he had advised and was happy to find that they were spot on once more. “Thanks again, Garrus. For the mod. It'll be a big help when it's dark.” She told him brightly, setting her rifle on the bed and facing him fully. “Was there something you needed, when you came in?” She suddenly asked, and he blinked for a moment before remembering why he had stopped by.

“Yes, actually. Here, mission file and dossier on who were looking for. We're headed for Noveria, this guy's a real piece of work and he has a lab there from what I understand. It'll take a few hours, so get caught up while you can. We'll be picking up a friend of mine on the way, he'll be a big help.” He told her, tossing the data pad across and watching as she caught it smoothly.

After he left, she set to work reading up on the file and the dossier; one Raymond Argol.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Port Hanshan, in all it's unfriendly glory. Always watch your back there, Spectre Shepard, never know what's waiting for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all my readers!
> 
> First off, thank you so much for all your kudos, and I apologize for being a quiet author; I read every message/comment/name I get but I always seem to get distracted afterward. So just know, that even though I haven't responded, I'm feeling all warm and giddy with your comments and kudos. Because it makes me happy to know that someone out there has enjoyed this. c;
> 
> On another note, I have totally rehashed this chapter, as well as a few following (still under works, though..) because I wasn't too happy with them as they were. I will post them as I rewrite them, so hopefully on a weekly schedule. No promises though; kids, full time job means writing is a side thing for me. But I love to do it, so this will keep going until it is finished! :D
> 
> As with everything I post, comments/kudos are much appreciated, as are messages regarding typos, constructive criticism, etc. If you have an idea for possible future chapters, or something you'd just like to see written, my inbox is always open and I will try to focus instead of getting distracted. Lol

Raymond Argol turned out to be a name that was not heard of in the port city of Hanshan. Small as it was, both Garrus and Shepard had hoped that at least one person would be able to point them anywhere else. No such luck for the two, seated at a table in the hotels bar after a long day of trying to find any leads.

Shepard herself was eyeing one Turian, two tables away, as he grumbled to himself and flitted through page after page on his omni-tool. “He needs help with something, and I've got a feeling we might benefit from offering it.” Shepard whispered lowly to Garrus, dipping her head toward the older Turian when Garrus looked up from his drink. He followed her gaze, humming for a moment before jerking his head toward him. “Have at it, then. Show me you can talk your way into a situation you aren't sure of.” He told her, mandibles fluttering smugly when she gave him a wry glance.

But she did so without wait, rising and, after glancing to the bartender, she pointed to the man and asked for a refill of both his and her own drinks. The bartender, a Salarian, nodded his head before getting to work and Shepard smiled before approaching his table.

“How's it going? I can hear your growling under your breath all the way to the bar.” Shepard said casually, smiling warmly at him when he glanced up, orange glow fading almost immediately before he chuckled, gesturing to the chair she stood behind. Sitting, she let was surprised when he rumbled almost fondly, looking her up and down in a way she found rather.. Uncomfortable. But her face showed nothing of how she felt, the smile still in place even as she shifted and showed the pistol at her hip cleanly.

“Ah, you must be one of the Spectre’s that arrived then. Your partner is still seated behind me, watching no doubt. But yes, I fear I am unprepared for what needs to happen. I assume you came over here with the hopes we may.. scratch one another's backs, correct?” He asked plainly, and she chuckled as she nodded.

“What is it you're needing, sir?”

“Lorik Qui’in, please, Spectre. If we are to be aiding one another, we should be on a first name basis. Now, is your partner going to be joining us?” He asked, glancing to Garrus before seeing Shepard shake her head, lips tilted downward. “Ah, well then. I manage the Noverian branch for Synthetic Insights, but I am under investigation by the board; corruption or some other nonsense.” He told her, chuckling with a wave of his hand. “I assure you, however, that Anoleis is the one who is corrupt. I have evidence to prove it, though it currently sits useless in my office. Anoleis has certainly sent in his henchmen to retrieve it by now, but perhaps you and your partner would be able to relieve them of it? I would be most willing to offer any assistance into knowledge of whoever you've been asking about.”

Shepard's eyes narrowed on him as she smiled wider, seeing an opportunist by her own heart. “We’ll see, Lorik. How am I to really know who's corrupt or not, though? This is Noveria and I've had my share of dealings with a few people who thought they'd be safe here.” She told him, folding her arms over her chest, eyes never leaving him when the bartender set their drinks in front of them. “I don't like being sent off to do someone's dirty work, Lorik, probably as much as you don't appreciate being looked into over false accusations.”

He leveled her with an amused, steady gaze. “A woman after my own heart. Your suspicion is well founded, but you are free to look at the information before deciding to give it to me or not. If you choose to place it back in my capable hands, I'll be more than happy to offer a pass to our labs, which just so happen to adjoin with a certain man you may have been asking after.” He told her, voice low but confident.

“We have a deal, Lorik. Call me Raquel, please.” She told him, offering her hand and shaking firmly when he took it. “Any idea what we might walk into?”

“I would assume the guardsmen who are moonlighting as mercenaries for Anoleis. Can't say who or how many, but it would be best to prepare for an armed entourage.” With that information she stood, gulping back her drink and smiled politely before heading for the elevator, Garrus following soon after.

Their trip through Qui’in’s offices was short lived, and completely silent; no guardsmen, no officials, not even a notice saying things were closed for any investigation. But they pressed on, and found an OSD in a locked drawer Garrus identified as the manager’s. As they left, however, tensions rose when they were met with a guardswoman that was hell bent on sending them to the chopping block, Shepard in particular. After attempting to talk things through, however, bullets were sent flying and Shepard took cover behind a large planter.

In the aftermath, with Kaira Stirling dead and out of her hair, Shepard and Garrus sifted through the information and headed to return it to Qui’in. “You sure you want to hand it over to him, Garrus? Political backlash or not, these are…”

“Hefty crimes?” He offered as they waited in the elevator.

“Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t look like he’s really hurting anyone personally, besides skimming from a few different accounts, but who’s to say the people he’s backing aren’t out there right now doing god knows what?” She asked, clearly torn as she tossed the OSD up and caught it repeatedly in one hand.

“I have no real plans to hand it over to him, not really. I told you I had a contact here at Port Hanshan, didn’t I?” He asked her patiently, and she looked up at him and shook her head, brows drawn down in confusion. “Oh, well. Sorry, must have forgotten. I have a contact here who can help us out with this.” He smiled widely, Shepard rolling her eyes before the elevator halted and the doors opened.

Standing outside the bar was Gianna Parasini, eyes focused on her omni-tool before she looked up and smiled slyly at Garrus. “Was wondering when you’d be getting back, Spectre.” She told him, a wide, casual smile in place as she met them halfway. “I got the information, but I need Qui’in to testify. Think you can manage that for me, too? On top of his clearances, I’ll be offering full access to whatever you need. But only if he agrees.”

Shepard tuned the argument Garrus began with the woman out, something worming through her gut, warning her something wasn’t right. When she spotted a Krogan watching from above, more interested than he should be, Shepard nudged Garrus with her boot. “We don’t have time for this, Garrus. Eyes on us, above the mezzanine.” She told him, scowling as she looked to Ms. Parasini for a moment. He nodded his head before resuming his conversation with the woman, but he tilted his head toward where Qui’in still sat, perusing his omni-tool.

Shepard blinked once, twice, a third time before she heard a tapping behind her, faint and hardly noticeable. Half turned around to locate it, she felt the barrel of a gun shoved up under her armpit as a human materialized from under a cloak, sneering at her as her mouth opened to shout, eyes wide surprise. “This is from Raymond. Welcome to the Galaxy, _Spectre_.”

“Gun!” Shepard shouted, trying to twist away, the gunman’s free hand gripping her shoulder and pushing her down with all his might. Shepard felt her biotics rippling through her, knew the aura was visible over her armor before it slipped away from her grasp as the loud crack of the gun echoed through her ears. Silence threatened to suffocate her as she tensed, feeling oddly numb as she watched the man, trying to memorize any detail she could before panicked shouting and screaming rushed into her hearing.

Shepard fell the floor just as the man raised the gun to his head and pulled the trigger again, dropping like a stone to the floor. Shepard could hear Garrus shouting orders above her, eyes moving to see him aiming his assault rifle toward the stairs, Parasini having drawn a pistol of her own. Turning her head to look into the bar, she locked eyes with the Krogan as he charged forward, feet thumping noisily before she closed her eyes.

  
“Hold onto your quad, Shepard. Wrex sends his regards, better not die ‘til you see him.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus is worried, meets an old friend of Shep, and time blurs as they get back into the swing of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> Thanks for reading, for commenting, for following, anything really! c: Every read is appreciate and it spurs me forward with this. Have to say, this chapter was... difficult for me, because I really felt lost as for how I wanted to move forward with things. But we're picking up the pace a bit!
> 
> To dispel some possible confusion; Shepard does not die in this universe, since there are no Reapers, and Collectors have yet to be decided as possible enemies, but I'm leaning heavily towards no at this time. Thus, Shepard is currently already equipped with the skin/muscle/bone weaves, etc that Cerberus rebuilt her with in ME2. Why? Well, you'll just have to keep following to find out, won't you? c;
> 
> Hope you all like this chapter, even if I'm not too fond of it myself. As always, my inbox is always open for any questions, concerns, constructive criticism, or whatever else you feel should be brought to my attention. Enjoy, you lovely people!

Garrus paced. Relentlessly.

It was all he could do, all he could manage as he tried to contain that frustration, the rage, the worry he found bubbling up and over; she was his charge, and on their first mission she had gone and nearly been _killed_. Besides looking bad in his files, not that he truly cared about such a thing, Shepard wasn't someone he felt he wanted to lose so suddenly. To hell with the fact that he barely knew her for more than a week.

Counting back the days, he realized it had actually nearly been two weeks since stumbling into each other back on the Citadel. A low growl tore through him as he tossed his hands up gruffly, finding a seat in the empty waiting room and slumping into it heavily. Exhausted, both physically and mentally, he checked his chronometer for the umpth time and a breath whistled harshly from his nose; seven hours.

Seven hours ago, he had been speaking with Gianna Parasini, arguing about who had the higher ground, who owed who more favors, why Garrus should even try and get back into that bed of debt with her considering she never seemed to own up in the long run. Seven hour since Shepard had warned him of a Krogan watching them, since taking it into consideration before pushing it off as nerves. Seven hour since a cloaked assassin had appeared.

Seven hours since Shepard had been shot, critically wounded.

The door opened, drawing his attention, but he slumped back in his seat when the Krogan who had picked Shepard up like she was nothing more than a stone leaned grumpily against the wall. “Urdnot Wrex wants to talk to you, Turian.”

Garrus growled lowly, eyes focused on the brutish, off-red plated behemoth. “Where is he?”

“Right here. You mind telling me how she got shot like she did? Thought Spectre’s were supposed to be the best in the galaxy.” Another Krogan entered, taller than the first and older, but not as wide in the shoulders. The scarring along his face left familiarity ringing in Garrus’ mind, and he recalled where he had seen the name Urdnot Wrex.

“You were on Elysium with her, right?” He asked, Wrex nodding firmly as his red eyes narrowed.

“Dagg, go find that Asari, get an update. _Now._ ” Wrex growled, focus shifting to his counterpart before the other grumbled but did as asked, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and closed again.

“Yeah, saved her quad a few times. Saved mine about the same. Who was the assassin?”

“Hired gun, working for a human we were investigating. Record didn’t bring anything up but his mercenary career; has ties to the Blue Suns but he wasn’t in their regalia.”

Wrex seemed to be sizing him up for a time after, Garrus staring right back defiantly, unafraid of the Krogan. After a few tense minutes though, Wrex huffed a laugh, crossing his arms and legs as he leaned against the wall behind him. “No wonder she likes you, even if you’re Turian. Got a quad. Small, but at least you’ve got one.” Garrus turned his head to the side, eyeing him with uncertainty.

“You two still talk?”

“Wouldn’t talk to any other human without a reason, would I? She’s the only one who seems to like Krogan for being Krogan, appreciates what we can do.” Wrex shrugged, eyes closing for a moment before he spoke again, Garrus’ mandibles flicking. “Shepard was excited to work with you, sounded like a Pyjak getting away with some good food. Was supposed to meet up with her after your botched shit on Noveria, but then I get a message from Dagg that she got herself shot. Who’s the human you’re after?”

Garrus hesitated, drawing back into himself as he weighed the pros and cons of bringing Wrex into their closed loop. Krogan, con; Battlemaster, pro and con; friend of Shepard, pro; skill and experience, pro. “Goes by Raymond Argol, can’t be sure it isn’t an alias but the assassin was glad to be Raymond’s welcome gift. He’s a slaver as far as we can tell, but he’s only been pulling small raids throughout Hierarchy and Alliance space for months; no one ever catches him. He’s been seen once, but the image was poor quality and neither military nor the Council have been able to run a facial recognition on him to be sure. He’s an unknown, but he’s causing more damage than anyone wants to let on. Kidnapped an Ambassador’s son a few weeks back. Didn’t end well for the Ambassador, son hasn’t shown up either.”

“Hah. You’ve got him on the run, at least. People only send out the welcome guns when they’re cornered. I owe Shepard a few favors, so consider me your muscle. Dagg, too, unless he finds a reason to head back to Tuchanka.”

Garrus dipped his head, mandibles flaring irately for a moment as he glared at Wrex; he certainly wasn’t keen on having a Krogan onboard the Menolith, let alone two. And not just because he was Turian and they were Krogan. But Wrex didn’t look to be going to pull his offer, eyes sharp and full of iron. Garrus reluctantly nodded, the door opened and pulling both their attention as a nervous Asari entered, Dagg on her heels.

“She’s been moved to room 417, but she hasn’t woken up yet. You’re welcome to stay Spectre, but..” Her blue eyes moved to Dagg and Wrex nervously before she continued. “I’m sorry, but you and your companion won’t be able to stay. The doctor will check on her progress in the morning, hopefully she’ll be stable to move to your ship by then.”

Dagg growled bitterly, glaring heatedly at the nurse as she took a step backward, toward the still open door. Wrex waved his hand lazily, obviously uncaring for his subordinate’s display and not concerned in the least that the nurse asked the two Krogan to leave; everyone in the room knew it wasn’t only because the hospital’s visiting hours had ended. Small as the facility was, they clearly were not equipped to deal with a rampaging Krogan, let alone the possibility of two.

“Get moving Dagg; we’ll be in that bar if you need us, Turian.” Wrex rumbled out, shoving the younger out the door when the Asari blanched and moved aside, standing half behind Garrus and gulping. When they were gone, she took a deep breath before giving Garrus directions to Shepard’s room.

* * *

 

The next morning Shepard was cleared to be moved, taken back the Menolith and, after reassuring Wrex that was fine, disdainfully of course, they returned to the Citadel. Running short missions Council made the weeks pass by in a blur for Shepard; her routine was strong and unbroken as the days passed, as she regained her strength. Wake, clean up, eat, check equipment, go over mission reports or whatever else was needed to be looked at, check in with contacts, check up on the status of the Normandy and have a quick talk with Joker or Anderson, then sleep.

Only this time, this afternoon as she was hunkered down behind a some rubble on some god forsaken planet she couldn't remember the name of, her routine was broken and ruined and she was _angry_. The seven weeks she spent working her ass off undercover had left a hole, small but relatively meaningless considering her position, until now.

Squeezing her hand around her outer thigh, enough blood seeping past her gloved fingers that she _knows_ she should be worried but can't find it in herself to be, a shaky growl escapes her lips. Rubbing at an eye with the back of her hand, fingers clamped around her Paladin painfully tight, she curses herself for ever agreeing to go undercover. Sure, she had stuck to her routine for a long while as best she could but still… Missions were a good reason to have it disturbed, not shattered!

Her armor? Half busted and so different from her N7 armor back resting in her locker. Her shields? Depleted and blocked thanks to a modified Overload from some Batarian she hadn't seen in time. Her rifle? Smashed to pieces back in the bunker she had escaped from, fueling her rage and disappointment. She knew it was just a weapon, she could replace it and the mods at any time she wanted, if she survived at least. But it was sentimental, held more memories than she had of her parents now, and was a weight in her hands she could always trust.

Sighing shakily as she leaned her head back against the rubble she was in front of, back up against it as tightly as she could, shot leg laid out fully in front of her and the other halfway curled at the knee, she chuckled bitterly to herself. “Garrus, if you can hear me and you pull me outta this mess, I'll buy you whatever Turian Brandy we can find at the closest port.” She whispered, feeling so very tired as she squeezed her thigh tighter. “God I'm tired.” She put in, head falling forward.

The crackling static only reminded her, again, that she probably wasn't getting off this rock. Leaning her head back against the hard stone, she banged it gently twice before her eyes shot open and her gun whipped up to aim at the voices she heard coming up on her.

“Shit.” She whispered angrily as she hauled herself up, feeling her leg burn just as angrily as she felt, and limping onward again. “Breaks over then. Try and find me with these, you bastards.” She muttered to herself, dropping a few proximity mines behind her before she headed further into the ruined building that she had stopped short of a few minutes before.

Her lungs burned from the smoke when she had managed to avoid being blown to pieces inside the bunker; under cover as a merc for hire wasn't the slowest job around, but it had taken weeks until she had been singled out by Vido Santiago as an excellent up and comer within his organization. It hadn’t been hard, not really, but it had been taxing; not nearly as heinous as many of her past jobs, but she had tried her hardest to avoid it all the same in recent years.

But then something had gotten out, she wasn't sure what or how or even by who, but suddenly her cover had been blown and things fell apart as quickly as a hot knife melts through butter. And so far it wasn't looking good for Shepard. As she had been fighting for her life she had sent out a distress signal to Garrus, who had been lingering outside of scanning range in orbit for the duration of her mission. But that had been a hours ago. Had he not gotten it? Had he been forced to leave for some reason? Was he found and in a firefight above? Was he dead?

The questions raced through her mind and left her feeling a bitter resentment well up, but she steeled herself as she pulled herself up and over a wall, groaning painfully as she slid down the back and to the floor. Bowing her head, she felt the urge to suddenly pray to those deities that her family had spoken of so long before, promising whatever they wanted if they got her out of this.

“Miss me, Shepard?”

The voice that cracked over her comm nearly made her cry in relief, and she managed a weary chuckle. “Shepard, are you alright?” He asked quickly, obviously hearing the strain in her voice before she could mask it.

“Sure, sure. Bleeding, out of medi-gel and being chased by who knows how many mercs, but I'm happy as a clam.” She retorted, more sarcastic than she had wanted to. Before she could apologize though, she heard him chuckle.

“Anyone ever told you that being sarcastic is unbecoming of you? Give me your location.”

“About that…” She told him sheepishly, and she heard the sigh he gave before she could go on.

“Flares?” He asked instead, and she groaned as she moved onto her bad hip and searched for any at her right side, finding none. “Doesn't look like it. Vido smashed my rifle, and I was using whatever I had on me to get out. I shot someone with a flare gun, Garrus.” She said matter of factly.

“Hope you didn't miss. Anything identifiable around you? Shepard?” He asked, worry ringing his dual tones when she didn't answer right away.

“Huh..? Oh, I'm in some ruins, looks like an old office or something. There's.. There's some stairs, I'll get up as soon as I can.” She told him, her breathing labored through the comm as she swore and groaned painfully when she got to her feet.

“Shepard, how bad is it?” He asked quietly, and she could envision his mandibles pulled against his face tightly.

“I'll be okay. Just.. Just tired. And _slow_.” She told him mutely, making him worry more. “Stay on the comms, will ya?” She asked softly, feeling a prickling in her eyes that she fought back as best as she could.

“Sure. I'm in that Kodiak we got running, Cortez is a pretty good pilot. Glad you thought to recruit him for a while after seeing him back on the Citadel.” Garrus commented, and she smiled despite herself as she climbed the stairs.

“Cortez is with you?” She asked, feeling a thrum of pride through her; that man was one of her best friends and she was glad he was there.

“Sure am Commander. Good to hear your voice again. Hang tight and we’ll be there as soon as we can.” His voice broke through, and she felt a surge of need to get up the stairs faster.

“I think I'm almost there. You see anything that looks like what I'm in?” She asked, leaning against the wall for a moment before pushing off and up again. Shepard slipped once, landing on her good knee thankfully as she pressed against her white and blue armor.

“Possibly. Hurry if you can, Shepard, I've got movement converging on a building.” Garrus said, and she felt a tightening in her throat when she looked behind her, listening carefully and swearing under her breath when she heard some voices.

“They're here, you've got the right building.” She told him, fighting the wave of panic and relying strictly on her training to not sit back and wait to die.

“ETA thirty seconds and counting, Commander.” Cortez said, and though she knew it should have told her she would be alright, she couldn't feel anything more than fear.

When she heard someone yell they had spotted her she turned quickly and aimed, her Paladin recoiling harshly in her one hand but the shot taking the merc right in the head before slumping down, a lucky one she counted enthusiastically in her head. Hurrying up the stairs as best she could, fighting the blackness at the edges of her vision, she gulped down a breath when she managed to make it around a corner of the staircase as bullets railed behind her.

She broke out to the top of the building, only four stories she kept telling herself, to see the familiar Kodiak just touching down and hovering in place, the doors opening to reveal Garrus with his assault rifle in hand and scanning all around while she continued forward. She turned again and backed up, pulling the hand clenching her leg to steady her aim and dragging the leg as she moved now, while popping off round after round and taking out as many mercs as she could. Blood rushed out quickly with her hand gone, smearing the rooftop as she moved, Shepard feeling clammy and dizzy but pushing past as best she could.

Garrus was at her side and shooting controlled bursts, taking out the ones she didn't efficiently before he followed her lead in backing toward the shuttle, a couple of paces in front of her. Once her knees hit the edge of the shuttle, she sat on the floor heavily but kept her gun aimed, popping her heat sink and replacing it quickly, the movement well versed and fluid from muscle memory.

Garrus stepped up into the shuttle, sending out one final burst before pulling Shepard in further with his hand gripping the collar of her armor. “Go, Cortez! Go!” Garrus called up front, the doors closing as Shepard leaned back against one of the seats where she was on the floor.

Pale as she was, she opened her purple-blue eyes tiredly and gave Garrus a smile as she caught her breath. “How's it going?” She asked him, and he shook his head with a chuckle as he grabbed the medkit and brought it over.

“Better now that we're leaving. You?” He asked easily, knowing well enough this was how Shepard coped with dire situations.

She had since clenched her hand over her thigh again, but Garrus pulled her hand away gently, looking at her when she hissed painfully between clenched teeth. His mandibles twitched when he saw she had tried to use her cryo ammunition and freeze the wound, obviously failing to after he pulled the armor locked to her leg away, soon seeing nothing but blood as it flowed out heavily. “Tried to freeze it, but my hands kept shaking. Probably just made it worse.” She told him, though he saw her eyes were closed as she leaned her head backwards fully, her neck exposed, his eyes watching as she swallowed.

“Sounds like it would have been a good idea if it had worked. The doctor can fix you up though. Just hold out until we can get back to the ship and you'll be good as new in no time, Shepard.” He told her, ripping open a package of medi-gel and pouring the thick substance over the wound. Her sigh of relief was almost immediate, and she waved him off afterward.

“I'll be fine, Garrus. Just need a break. Any shore leave coming up in the meantime? My ass can't take anymore of this until I've had a few days off.” She told him, laughing lightly as Garrus took a seat next to her.

“I was already planning on it. We’re headed for Illium, instead of the Citadel. I'll send our reports from there and tell them we’re taking some needed time off. I doubt they'll put up much of a fight.” He told her, hearing her snort quietly as she rolled her eyes.

“They better not, or that next rifle of mine won't be new for long.” She told him, and he laughed aloud as they sat there and waited for Cortez to get them back to their ship.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illium, the glorious and shiny sister-city to Omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been longer than I had wanted to get this chapter up, sorry guys. Work has been getting busier with school beginning again, and now to top it off I've got some nasty sinus and respiratory issues going on. Someone put me out of my misery...
> 
> Anyway, I really hope this chapter is okay. I didn't want to wait another day or two, let alone a third week. :x I will be leaving it as is, save for any typo's that may be found of course. Thanks for reading guys, I appreciate it!
> 
> As always, if you see anything wrong feel free to point it out, and my inbox is always open to questions, comments, concerns, constructive criticism, whatever you want to send me. Enjoy!

The doctor aboard the Menolith, an Asari matron named Nusra T’dara, cleaned Shepard up as best as she could, rolling her eyes with a half smile as she wiped off the excess medi-gel she had slathered over Shepard’s thigh. “You’re good to go. Good to get shot again, too, but let's try and keep a storm of bullets to a minimum. Derick probably would like to see me in one piece when we reach Ilium, and I do mean in body and mind.” She joked, gripping Shepard’s elbow and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“Sure thing, Nusra. You sure you don't want to bring Derick aboard when we leave? There's plenty of room.”

She shook her head with a chuckle, but jerked her head for the door instead of answering. Shepard laughed quietly before nodding and jumping from the gurney she was on, testing her leg for a moment before sighing comfortably. “Good as new, like always. You've got some magic touch, Nusra.”

“Yeah, I've been told on occasion. Now get out of here, Shepard, before I give you a reason to get back on one of these beds.” Shepard waved as she left, chuckling at the empty threat.

She found herself in the showers next, feeling sweat and grime stick to her like a second skin she wasn't keen on; turning the faucet on she sighed as the water heated up even before she stripped and stood under it, remedying such a thing within moments as steam billowed upwards. Closing her eyes as she leaned her forehead against the curtain wall shielding her from the second and first stalls, having chosen the far stall for herself, Shepard closed her eyes as she let the warm water work magic on her tired and sore muscles.

The door hissed open and, soon enough, the stall next to her sputtered to life; she smiled to herself as she heard Garrus’ talons clacking against the floor, feeling he wanted to ask something but was hesitant.

“You know, you don't have to corner me in the shower to ask whatever you want to, Garrus. I'm pretty open, I like to think.” She told him quietly, voice low as she let the water cascade down her back.

He didn't say anything at first, though she heard a soft rumbling that she guessed was him being nervous. “Yeah, sorry. Are you.. Are you alright? I heard what you praying, but my transmissions couldn't get to you.” He said softly, voice hesitant.

“Oh.” Was all she said, suddenly remembering what exactly she had been saying, growing somber. “Yeah, sorry about that. I… I never was one to really believe, but sometimes it helps me get through a tough mission when…”

“When the outcome doesn't look to be in your favor?” He asked when she trailed off, Shepard swallowing over a sudden lump in her throat. “If you need to talk about anything that happened, that you did, I'm here Shepard.”

She smiled against the cool wall, having turned her cheek to it. “Yeah, thanks, Garrus. I'm okay though, nothing I haven't had to deal with before.”

“Well, if that's the case, is that brandy offer still on the table? I did pull you out of there pretty quick.” He teased, sub vocals humming with amusement as Shepard scoffed playfully.

Shutting off the water, she grabbed a towel from nearby and wrapped it around herself, walking out and past Garrus as she shook her head. “Was I hallucinating when I saw Cortez piloting the shuttle? I didn't think you even knew how to pilot a Kodiak, Garrus.”

“I am an engineer, Shepard. I could figure it out, given a few minutes time.” He joked, his own water shutting off. Just before she reached the door, hand poised above the lock, she heard his sharp intake and turned halfway to look at him, eyes wide with worry.

“Did Vido do that to you?” He asked, looking at her back intensely. She frowned as she tried to look herself, but soon bit the inside of her bottom lip when she realized what he was asking about.

“No, that was from a long time ago.” She told him, pulling her towel up a little higher without realizing it, turning to face him fully and keep her back toward the door. She smiled at him again, but he saw the tension and how she seemed to put on a blank facade quickly, and he blinked slowly.

“Was that from..?” He asked quietly, and her smile faltered before she shook her head stiffly, turning around and letting the towel drop just enough to reveal the scar in all it's horrendous glory. The burn trailed down from her right shoulder blade to disappear beneath where the towel still covered her lower half, and spread just barely past her spine, looking as though whatever chemical had caused the damage was tossed over her back.

“It's not as bad as it looks, most days. If I'm cold it tends to ache, but other than that no real effects from it that interfere with missions.” She told him, trying to keep her voice even and bubbly like she normally was. But Garrus knew her long enough to see how she was tense, her shoulders hunched forward ever so slightly and her body very eager to leave.

Without realizing it, he had stepped forward and raised a hand to it, gently drawing one talon over the scar. She froze completely when he did, and he pulled back quickly with an apology. “Uhm, it's.. Alright. I don't like to..”

“I understand.” He told her quickly, knowing that she wasn't vain, not in the slightest, but a scar as large as that? Questions most certainly rose as to how she lived through whatever happened for that to appear.

He watched as she flashed him a half smile, then quickly beat a retreat after pulling the towel tightly around her body again. He wasn't sure why, but something in him seemed to sink as he watched her leave, seeing the smile hadn't brightened her face like they normally did. But he wasn't about to press her for details, knowing he himself wouldn't feel the urge to offer up an explanation to a recent friend either.

* * *

 

Docking on Ilium was fast and easy, and after touching ground themselves Shepard inhaled deeply after finding the first overlook. “It's beautiful.” She told Garrus, looking back over a shoulder as he joined her, hands bracing against the low wall.

“In this light, sure. Take a closer look and you'll see it's just as bad as Omega. Don't sign anything, not here. Not ever.” He warned her with a laugh, but she rolled her eyes with a smile.

“I'm very well aware of how Illium works, Garrus. I have been here before, many times. Here is actually where I was burned.” She told him, her tone light despite the information she had divulged.

“Oh. Well, welcome back then. I guess.” He stuttered, not sure what say to that. She laughed before jerking her head toward the walkway that would lead to the business district, hands itching to find a replacement sniper rifle and mods.

“Come on, we've already got a place reserved for us while we’re here. Unfortunately, I was forced to rent out a suite, courtesy of the Council for a job well done I'm sure. Some convention is up and running I believe.” The smile he saw on her face as she turned around to walk backward, legs kicking up further than normal, was nothing short of devious.

“There is indeed, Garrus. And it's a great one, one that I'll be paying a visit to as often as time allows. You are welcome to join me, and believe me when I say if you don't you are missing out on the best weapons showcases, mods in development and information in the galaxy.” She told him blithely, grinning like a cat.

“The best in the galaxy?” He asked, his mandibles slowly twitching back and forth as he gave her a dubious look.

“In. The. _Galaxy_.” She enunciated, nodding her head before turning back around. “Now hurry up, we can catch the end of today if we hurry!” She told him, picking up her pace.

“I thought you just said I wasn't required to go?” He asked with a laugh, shaking his head when she held up her hands in a shrug. “Well I lied. Now come on!”

They made their way through a large crowd easily, Shepard easy to keep track of due to her positively bouncing form and the dark red ponytail on her head. Garrus kept close to her even as she whipped through the many people, finding it odd how agile she was when he himself was having trouble moving through so many people. She stumbled once, rubbing at her thigh for a moment before moving again, making Garrus wonder if she was alright; but she said she was fine, the smile still bright on her face so he didn't press it.

He nearly ran into her when she stopped, eyes wide as her mouth hung open. “What's that saying about insects flying into your mouth, Shepard?” He asked her as he followed her gaze.

“That wasn't supposed to even be out until next year!” She said as she stared at the sleek, Black Widow model that an Asari was showing to another. Her eyebrows turned down in a determined set as she waited for the Asari to finish up with her potential sale.

Her face dropped when the Turian she was with dropped his credit chit on the table and nodded enthusiastically, the Asari looking pleased for her sale. “Well, maybe next year then.” She soon said, disappointed but moving on quickly from the feeling. “Just gives me more time to look at other rifles. I heard they upgraded your heat detecting mod, by the way; there has to be a few of those out here somewhere.” She told him, and he nodded with a laugh when she grabbed his arm and pulled him elsewhere.

They visited a few other booths and kiosks before they headed for the room that had been given to them for their visit. Once inside, they both went to their separate rooms with a good night, tired and ready for some sleep away from the Menolith.

Once she had changed out of her armor and into her night clothes, Shepard hummed to herself as she left her room to grab a drink of water. She found a magazine, left on the island table in the small kitchenette, and began skimming through it, leaning over the table on an elbow in a bored fashion.

She hadn't even known Garrus had left until the door hissed open and he walked in, seemingly startled by her being where she was. She gave him a confused look as he moved one hand to rub the back of his neck, his mandibles flaring out in a way she had pinned as him feeling embarrassed.

“What?” She asked bluntly, feeling a bit grumpy now as he stared at her; she already missed picking up her dream rifle, hadn't found another yet to replace hers, and she was starting to feel more of the after effects of her fight with the Blue Suns. Nusra could only do so much on a ship like the Menolith.

Her eyes darted down to his other hand, seeing him carrying a case that obviously held some kind of weapon. “Uh, didn't think you'd still be up, is all.” He told her, beginning to head for his room, but he paused tensely when Shepard called out.

“Stop. Turn..” She told him, knowing something was up. The look on her face was clearly unimpressed as he followed her orders, eyes darting around nervously for a few seconds. “What's wrong?” She asked him again, concern lacing her words as her head tilted to the side.

He let out a sigh before walking over and setting the case on the table. “I was going to look it over before.. Giving it to you tomorrow. It's not that new model you were looking at, it's one I used a few times before deciding I preferred my old rifle.” He told her quietly, pushing the case a bit toward her as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“You're giving me a rifle?” She asked him, blinking in quick succession as he nodded his head, mandibles still fluttering nervously. The smile on her face was kind, grateful, and warm as she flipped the latches and opened the case.

Her excitement grew, and promptly turned to panic, when she realized what it was exactly. “A Widow? Garrus, I can't accept this! Do you know how much these things cost.. Never mind, of course you do. But no!” She said, waving her hands in front of her as she shook her head quickly.

“Yes you can, Shepard. I've got no use for it, unless mine gets smashed up, which it won't.” he told her jokingly, and she gave him a playful glare. “Besides, you need one and why waste credits on something that's overpriced here; best in the galaxy it may be, you can find much better prices on the Citadel, maybe even Omega.” He pointed out, and she laughed as she nodded.

“I know, it's just more exciting to get something that not many people have beforehand! Are you sure, though? This isn't something small like.. Like a mod.” She asked him again, her head turning to the side disbelievingly.

He laughed as he nodded, pushing it closer to her. “Yes, I'm sure. The mods are still on there, too, but I'm here if you want me to change any out.” He told her, but she shook her head.

“No, they're fine! This is as great a birthday present as anything.” She told him, and he was startled when she said it; would she ever stop surprising him?

“You wanted it for your birthday?” He asked her, and she smiled again at the look on his face. Having been on his team for so long, she found his facial expressions easier to read by how his mandibles moved along with his brow plates.

“Come every year to get something for myself. Please, don't make a big deal of anything! This is great, though now I don't know how I'll outdo it next year.” She chuckled, pushing some hair that had come loose behind an ear.

“Well, happy birthday then. And I doubt you'll ever outdo this, all things considered. I happen to be one of a kind, and gifts like these are _pretty_ expensive. Or so I've been told.” He joked, and she rolled her eyes with a grin.

“But at least tell me you have some plans besides checking out this convention?” He asked her, and she thought for a moment, lips twisted thoughtfully as she looked down at the table.

“Never really thought about it, at least this year. Normally I'd celebrate with some of the crew on the Normandy, Joker always threw us a party and got us drunk off our asses. And I mean smashed. Hungover for two days smashed. Was always worth it though.” She smiled softly at the memory, obviously feeling a bit homesick to Garrus.

An idea formed in his head as she offered him more insight into her life back on the Normandy, and with a bit of pushing she even told some stories of friends she had made over the years. He listened intently as she spoke, often using her hands or making some odd noise here or there to describe something; he found it endearing, and laughed often as she spoke. And when she finally turned into bed, he brought up his omni-tool once her door had shut and locked for the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old mentor, a trip to the Terminus Systems, and the resulting chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there all. Been... well a long time. Sorry about that. You all know how life gets, so I'm sure someone can understand that at least; truth be told, my depression hit a very low point for me, and with my son it just.. life has been rough this past little while. And it has sadly taken its toll on writing, anything creative really; not much at all has come out of me in my docs for a while, even with prompts. But I feel like I can breath again, so onward!
> 
> Between a hefty writing block over the past month, this is finally where I want it to be. The chapter anyway; seven is in the works, but it will likely be a slow burning candle that gets this story moving. But maybe not, to be honest. We've hit a key point in the story, and you'll understand why when you finish the chapter.
> 
> Thanks so everyone who has read, left comments, kudos, anything! I enjoy seeing those pop up in my alerts, makes me feel like I'm doing a semblance of okay. As always, if you've got questions, concerns, constructive criticism, I am always open for messages whenever, wherever! c: Happy reading!

Shepard woke to the pleasant feeling of light warming her face; cracking an eye she realized her window hadn't been tinted the night before when she had turned in, and remembering why she had forgotten, being as tired as she was, made her grin happily. Checking her chronometer left her springing up with a cry of surprise, launching to the floor and pulling on the pants she had stripped off before falling into bed, buttoning them up even as she shoved her feet into her boots.  Rushing out her door with a growl as she struggled to right boots, jumping forward on one foot while the other was bent at the knee and her hand roughed up the tongue, Shepard made for an extremely hilarious sight, disoriented and flustered as she was. But when she paused, boot dropping to the floor with a thump, at the sound of someone clearing their throat her eyes stared like a deer at the two men bent over the counter.

Garrus’ mandibles were twitching as he valiantly tried to hold back what she knew was laughter, and the one her eyes were glued to left her face turning beet red from embarrassment.

“Never known you to be caught with your pants down, Shepard.” The man spoke, voice full of joviality and humor, blond hair shorn close to his head and a beard looking half shaved and half trimmed with scissors.

“Where the hell did you come from, Pell?” Shepard blurted, stunned that the man was in the room. “Sorry if I don't just run and hug you, but last I heard you were neck deep in slavers. Without a neck.”

He smirked as he turned to lean back against the counter, lanky arms crossing over his chest. “Yeah well, couldn't just get out like you did with a promotion. Not everyone gets that lucky. Truth is, I'm running an op a few systems over, got a message from a friend saying you were in town. Again. By the way, are you ever gonna just quit coming here? Place gets shadier every damn year.”

Shepard watched him for a few moments longer before she stood at attention, hand rising with her chin, saluting the man briskly. “Of course not, sir.”

“I am not your commander officer, Shepard. Quit with the formalities. I washed out of the Alliance last year.” He joked, stepping up and grabbing her around the shoulders tightly, hugging her hard enough that Garrus was taken aback, mandibles dropping loosely as he stiffened and watched warily. When he released her, Shepard smiled at Garrus reassuringly before stepping back and giving herself some space.

“Yeah, sorry Pell. Old habits and all.” Shepard told him, then gesturing to Garrus. “I guess you've met my partner. I'm sure you guys swapped some stories, feel free to let me know what I'm walking into.” Pell laughed, a quick bark, before returning to where he had been leaning against the counter.

“I didn't tell him much, he hasn't been here too long.”

“He did bring me up to speed on the fact that you were shot point blank in the pit, though. I did teach you better than that, didn't I? Must be why I washed out, all my pupils up and getting themselves killed.”

“Hey hey! I'm not the only one still alive, Pell.” Shepard growled, the mood changing from friendly to dour.

“You are in my eyes, no room for someone like that to be listed as a reference.” He told them, his hazel eyes carefully intent on the fabric of his shirt. “But your man Garrus here did tell me you lost the rifle I gave you; how in the hell did you let Vido Santiago smash that volkov? She was a work of art!”

“I didn't let him do anything, Pell. A rat found me out, slipped him the information and then someone yanked my guns off me while I tried to get away.” Shepard shot back, Garrus humming at how uncharacteristically argumentative she was being.

“Before you two tear each other's throats out, we have a job. It's why Pell dropped by, needed some help.” Garrus interjected, both humans looking to him, brows drawn down in confusion.

“This? It's just how we are, no throat ripping or head chopping to be had, my new friend.” Pell told him with a chuckle soon after, shaking his head. “She's too pigheaded to realize there are other ways than going in all quiet like.”

“And you're too stupid to see that infiltration is sometimes better than going in horns raised like the buffalo you think you are.” Shepard muttered, not at all bitter if the smile she wore told Garrus anything. “Anyway, what's the job?”

“Some pirates decided to raid one of my depots. Can't be letting them keep all my guns and sell them to some other mercenaries out there, especially since they aren't really my guns. Was holding onto them for an alliance platoon, the depot is their last stop to refuel and stock up. I hire men to guard the depot, I get a cut of the pay when the soldiers stop by. A nice cut, one that should have me sitting on a beach somewhere fancy, drinking beer out of a crystal bottle.”

“Mercenary life that good? Maybe I should retire, hire myself out.”

“You'd take all the good jobs, and then where would I fit in?” Garrus asked, mandibles flicking humorously. “Oh wait, I'd be the one hunting you down. Can't seem to beat me at hand to hand yet, so I think my first course of action would be to strand you somewhere.”

“Uh huh. Sure. You do realize that with me being my own middle man I'd have more credits than could fill this armory? And a nicer ship, maybe a one man cruiser. Get an illegal AI, have it run the ship so I can take care of everything else.”

Pell rolled his eyes as he cleared his throat. “If we can get back to  _ my _ fantasy fulfillment, over here. So these pirates…” He told them all he had been able to learn of them, sending both the information to their Omni-tools; spending the better part of what was left of the morning and the afternoon, the three shot down plans, stuck ideas together, until they managed to agree upon one.

“We’ll meet you on the docks tomorrow, 0600, Pell.” Shepard told him as he left, nodding and waving a goodbye before slipping out the door.

* * *

 

_ Chalkhos, 2117 _

Groaning as she turned her head to the side, helmet cracked and spider webbed enough to make her already blurred vision harder to focus, Shepard flopped her right hand and arm away from her body. Her left was pinned beneath her, her legs feeling watery and her entire back was a mass of screaming nerves. Managing to unseal her helmet and push it off, sweat matting her disheveled hair to her neck and forehead, her eyes scanned the wreckage of the cruiser around her.

She gasped and struggled to get up when she spotted Pell, lips blue and skin pale, one arm completely severed and just gone,a shirt tied around him. A bulkhead crushed him against the mashup of floor and debris, and Shepard overcame her momentary surge of panic as a new wave crashed into her; where was Garrus?

“Garrus?” She croaked out, throat dry and raw in ways that made her not want to think of how long she had been there. “Garrus!” Managing to slide herself out from under the bulkhead that had nearly crushed her, saved only by the smashed but relatively intact gun rack; the guns themselves were nowhere to be seen, another clue that left her nervous. Hardsuit scraping along the flooring, she half yelled when she managed to pull her legs free, blood flowing much more freely through them and leaving her nerves stinging painfully.

Shaking herself out as best she could, leaning against the ship's wall that was still intact, her strength of will managed to get her to move toward Pell; he was long dead, Shepard hoping that the initial slam of the bulkhead had done him in and hadn't left him to suffer. But looking closer she growled angrily; his throat had been cut. Now more alert than when she had come to, Shepard looked around warily before she spotted the gaping hole in the ship, leaving it with a limp to try and find anything that would lead her to Garrus, or aid.

Raising her comms when she managed to get a dozen feet away from the crash, Shepard cursed when nothing but static rumbled in her ears. But soon she heard gunfire, the booming echoing loudly and leaving her reaching for a gun that wasn't there. Still she moved forward, heading for the sign of battle; it could be Garrus, it could simply be someone she could get information from. Even if it was some enemy, as she didn't know who had shot them out of the sky, Shepard couldn't risk not knowing.

And after jogging through the sparse trees and the tall bushes, Shepard stopped in her tracks, half bent over herself as her eyes locked onto a form so familiar that she felt a vice clench around her heart. The turian ahead turned, one eye locking onto her with the sharpness of a predatory bird, a growling rumble breaking her staring trance. Anger replaced it, one so hot that she ignored the men closing in on her, the guns raised and aimed for her, tunnel vision leaving her steps heavy with rage and her muscles taut.

“One move and your companion is dead, Spectre.” Saren Arterius growled, voice pitched low. He stepped to the side, one hand gripping Garrus’ fringe tightly, holding the battered and bloodied turian up; but that didn't stop her. She scowled, and just as suddenly she was encased in her vibrant biotics, the blue encasing Saren as well as he called up his barrier; Shepard cried out as she rocketed her Flare at the man, running forward as he was thrust backward but kept his footing. Saren released Garrus, letting the beaten turian fall to the ground unceremoniously, before he brought up his pistol and fired twice; both rounds hit Shepard’s right shoulder, one bouncing off but the other skimmed over the edge of her collar, piercing the junction between neck and collar.

Shepard, already injured and exhausted, went down to her knees as she clapped a hand over her neck wound, blood leeching through her fingers. “She-pard…” Garrus wheezed out, trying to move toward her by dragging himself over. He didn't get far before one soldier kicked him harshly in the side, but Saren snarled as his mandibles flared angrily.

“Get back to the shuttle. We don't have time to waste here.  _ Now. _ ” He ordered harshly when they hesitated, but one nodded before they obeyed and left Saren alone with the two younger Spectres. He approached Garrus first, using a toe to flip him over, ignoring the weak glare he was given. “You chose the wrong planet, Vakarian. My reports said there was to be no interference. And you.” He turned to Shepard, striding over like a lion, large and dangerous.

“You were not supposed to be here. At all. She was to assign you elsewhere.” He hissed as he pulled her up with talons slipped under her pauldrons. “If he had seen you, I can promise he would not have been as merciful as I have been.” He hissed into an ear, and had Shepard been more coherent as she fought to focus on him, she would have noticed when he tapped her medi-gel port.

She was dropped roughly as Garrus coughed and rasped bitterly. “Put.. her down.” Rising onto his knees, weaving as blue shined over his armor, he growled deep within his chest as he tried to stand. But Saren moved closer and gripped his fringe again.

“You are out of your league, Vakarian. Kryik was so very wrong about you, when he put your name forward. Your talent is over exaggerated, you're nothing but a child.” He ground out, mandibles flicking irately. “You should have listened to your father when he tried to deny you, at least he had the sense to leave well enough alone!” Thrusting him toward the ground he began stalking away. “Remember this,  _ Spectre _ , you would do well to stay out of my business if you prefer not to join the Spirits.”

Garrus pulled himself back up, glancing around but Saren was gone. His eyes narrowed as he spotted something flashing nearby, a distress beacon he soon recognized from where it was hidden beneath thick leaves. Where had that come from, he wondered briefly before he turned back to Shepard, getting onto wobbly feet and managing to fall again next to her. “Shepard, wake up.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, hauling her torso into his lap as he checked for a pulse; her neck was sealed now, but he emptied her medi-gel fully regardless. “Hold on, Shepard.” He muttered, watching as her eyes fluttered before struggling to open.

“Where… where did he go?”

“He left, Saren’s gone. I thought you were dead. They dragged me out, but left you after killing Pell. How do you know Saren, Shepard? He's been blacklisted for almost an entire cycle.”

“He… killed him. He killed them.” Shepard whispered tiredly, but after another moment she smiled. “We should get to a shuttle. And you should fly. I can't fly. I crashed the last shuttle I flew.” She giggled, and Garrus pulled away from her, blinking rapidly. “I take it this is why you don't use medi-gel in the field?” He asked, voice shallow as he tried to laugh.

“Pretty much. It's cold though. I thought we were on a humid part of the planet.” She asked, and he nodded before opening her omni-tool and adjusting her heating stabilizer.

“There, that should be warm enough.” He told her, but his attention was pulled away when a static cracked voice tried to reach him; after a short minute he relaxed to know an alliance shuttle was on its way, along with med-evac.

“We’ll be out of here soon, Garrus. Don't worry, I can hold on for a few minutes.” Shepard told him, voice soft and tired, eyes finding his before she smiled reassuringly. “Remember when I told you I wasn't born a biotic? You can thank those bastards for me staying alive then, and for not dying out here today either.” He was taken aback by her words, bitter and full of hate, yet her face was serene and calm.

“Yeah, remind me to thank them if we run into them, Shepard.” Garrus told her, raising his head when he heard the distant thundering of shuttle thrusters.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's family, some history with Saren, and what happened to the young Shepard to make her who she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after some internal debate, here's the newest chapter! It's, and I'll be honest here, mostly just a filler with Raquel's background. This will lead up into the bigger plot at the end, so just hang in there until I can get the next chapter up for you all. c: It's in the works, but with the holidays coming up I am going to be slower than the slow I am. Sorry about that; retail jobs require a lot of time when Black Friday rolls around and that's only the beginning.
> 
> Every read, every save, every comment is appreciated. c: It's nice to see that there are people out there who stop in and take time out of their busy lives to read through my works, makes me feel all happy inside. As always, if you have any concerns, questions or constructive crit, my inbox is always open!

“Dammit Shepard, you can't just say he killed someone and then refuse to give me any answers!” Garrus shouted, pacing the space between their bunks on the Menolith, talons digging into his gloves as they clenched with his frustration. “I thought we were partners, not just a pair of high end mercs who decide when to divulge information to use as leverage.”

“That’s it exactly, Garrus.” Shepard said from where she was seated on her bunk, one arm on her knee and hand covering her face, the other hand resting between her legs loosely.

Her words made Garrus halt and look down at her, mandibles half flared and low as his eyes held a fraction of betrayal. “You really think I'd hold anything over you? Watching your back time and again, hauling you out of the fire when you need it, and not to mention that it goes the same for me when I need it. But you're sitting there, refusing to answer any of _my_ questions because you think I'll use it to blackmail you? For Spirits sake, Shepard! I'm not the Council’s _preteril_!” He roared, anger and hurt lacing his movements as he faced her fully.

But he deflated just as quickly when Shepard gave off markers that weren't defiance or pride; if anything she looked regretful, eyes downcast and unable to meet his, shoulders set in a slumped, exhausted way. Sighing as he ran talons over his fringe, wincing when he hit a still tender spot, Garrus joined her on her bunk and leaned forward over his knees. “Shepard, you're my partner and, more importantly, I consider you a friend. And what happened, that worried me; I've never seen anyone as angry as you were when you saw Saren.”

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw at his name, shaking her head. “Garrus, it's not because I don't trust you, please know that. I do trust you, we are friends, but this is… nobody knows about this except for Anderson but even _he_ buried it.” She told him, more emotion in her voice as she scowled, brow furrowing as Garrus watched her stare into space, lost in thought. He cleared his threat gently and she blinked before glancing over at him.

“This isn't something that I can just tell people, Garrus. I wasn't just some angsty, angry teenager or twenty-something year old, I had cause to be angry and hate the world. And we both know where the Galaxy finds work for angry people.” She told him, sitting up straight and rubbing the nape of her neck. Garrus grabbed her shoulder gently and stared at her, long and hard, waiting until she reluctantly met his eyes.

“I'm not people, Shepard, I'm your partner and your friend. Just because you may have been someone else years ago doesn't change who you are now.” He told her, her eyes darting to her hands where she left them hanging between her knees again.

“I'm still that person, running into Saren showed me that I haven't changed much at all.”

* * *

  **April 29, 2170**

**Boulder City, Colorado, United States**

Shepard bit her lip harshly, eyes watery and brow furrowed deeply as the fifteen year old tried so hard not to cry, cradling her right arm against her. “Hold on, kid, we’re almost there. So tell me again why I told you and Liam not to play with that stuff in my office?” Vincent Shepard asked, glancing at her from the behind the wheel of his old model, rolling set of wheels pickup truck. At the mention of the garage being referred to as his office, Shepard huffed out a chuckle as she smiled apologetically.

“Because it's heavy and alien tech and we shouldn't go snooping around your friends stuff.” She told him, morose and pained.

“Right you are, smart daughter of mine. But now give me your honest opinion; is it salvageable?” He asked, more humor in the stubble covered man.

“I don't even know what it was. But I think I broke it more. I'm sorry, dad; your friend won't be mad will he?”

“Nah, he's not gonna be mad, Quel.” He told her, reaching over, the truck veering slightly as he did, to ruffle her maroon hair. It was another few minutes before he pulled into the hospitals parking lot, taking up two slots as he drove over both, shut off the truck and soon helped Raquel out of the truck before ushering her into the building.

An hour later they were headed down a stairwell, Raquel’s right arm in a cast from palm to mid-bicep. She was laughing at her father as he slid down the railing to the bottom, wobbling a little as he tried to keep his balance. “Bum leg of mine can't keep me down, that little break won't keep you down either!” He told her, pounding his chest with one fist as he stood tall at the bottom of the stairs. But Raquel tilted her head when she saw her father blink rapidly and look down, face falling into a slight scowl.

“Dad?” She asked when she reached him, touching his arm and startling him.

“I need you to be quiet, Raquel. Keep watch, and keep quiet.” He told her firmly, voice soft but full of steel she hadn't heard directed at her in her entire life. “This way. If anyone comes, you whistle, two sharp notes. Got it?” She nodded as she frowned, worried but obedient.

He led them down to the next floor, and after rushing out the door into the hall she gasped to see an armored Turian crouched over something on the floor. “Get out of here!” Vincent shouted, his run hindered by the limp in his left leg. Raquel froze, eyes wide as she watched the Turian rise, mandibles fluttering as he growled; she hadn't seen an alien before, not up close, but she swore he was just so angry.

And his _eyes._ They scorched through her, his silver plates fierce with the unnatural, frozen lightning of his eyes. She heard her father cursing as he shoved past the turian, ignoring him until Raquel watched the alien move forward, talons twitching. Raquel was startled into action, rushing forward and shouting a warning to her father, but she nearly tripped over her own feet when the alien looked back to her before disappearing into nothing. “Raquel! Keep an eye out!”

“Is that.. a bomb?” She asked shakily, backing up to the door and watching for anyone in the stairwell. “Dad?”

“Yes, Raquel. Now be quiet so I can disarm it. Please.” He told her through gritted teeth; she had more questions but let them settle in her gut, the seconds ticking by so very slowly. It felt like an eternity later that her father stood, pocketing something he had picked up from the ground and rushing to his daughter.

Wrapping an arm around her tightly as they moved toward the exit at the far end of the hallway, whispering under his breath as he leaned down, acting like he was talking to her. Raquel nodded when he seemed to ask a question, understanding he still needed her to be quiet while he spoke to whoever he had on his comm lines. Once in the truck, Raquel broke down into tears as the engine roared to life, Vincent reaching over and hugging her tight for a few moments before peeling out of the hospital grounds quickly.

“I'm sorry, Raquel, I'm so sorry. Listen to me, babe, I need you to listen to me. There are bad people looking to do bad things, it's just how the galaxy is. There's still good though, don't ever forget that. But that's not what you need to remember most right now.” He told her, eyes focusing on the drive back to their home some miles away from the hospital. “If anything happens, to me or your mother or, god forbid, both of us, you get your asses to Ilium. You do it. On the top shelf of my workbench is a false back, there's creds in there that I put away for.. well you don't need to know that, but it'll get you both to Ilium. Take the OSD and everything else up there and contact a Trelina Farsky; she's an old friend who you can trust to make sure you and Liam are safe. Do you understand?” He asked, pulling into their driveway and turning to face her.

“Raquel Addison Shepard, do you understand?” He asked again, grabbing her shoulder firmly and making her look at him.

“I understand, dad. But.. what's going to happen?” She asked, and he shook his head.

“I don't know, Raquel.” He told her honestly, shutting the truck down and soon smiling at her reassuringly before getting out and jerking his head toward the garage.

**May 16, 2170**

**Shepard Residence**

**Boulder City, Colorado, United States**

She hadn't been able to sleep; quiet music, a hot shower, nothing could make her nerves settle. And for the life of her, Raquel could _not_ figure out why she felt so nervous and worried. Her mother and father had gone out hours ago, date night with their neighbors in the city, and Liam was to be coming home from work in the next couple of hours.

But a thumping in the front room made her look up from her pillow, her door being banged on as Coin, the Great Pyrenees, rumbled his displeasure from the foot of the bed. “Raquel, get up!” Liam shouted, sounding more upset than she had ever heard him. “Pack a bag, now!”

She blinked but moved, pulling the already packed bag from her closet; after the incident at the hospital she had asked him to help her keep a bag ready for an emergency, and as she pulled it out and headed for the door, she ripped it open to hear the vid screen in the front room on.

_“The vehicle has been identified as a red and white antique model truck, but the make cannot be identified as of now. The fire is being put out as quickly as it can. Two bodies were recovered from the wreckage, both deceased but positive ID has been made of locals Vincent Leland Shepard and wife Janine Grace Shepard.”_

Shepard couldn't help the cry of anguish that erupted as a shout of denial, gripping her arms, careless of the cast still in place, and folding over herself as hot tears flooded her vision. She took a few minutes to cry before she looked up and saw Liam on the couch, head in his hands as he sobbed. “Liam, we need to go. You know what dad said.” Raquel said tearfully, the worry in her gut having dropped like a rot covered stone, making her stomach clench and twist painfully.

But while she left Liam where he was and moved to gather what her father had told her about, she was surprised to receive a message on her personal omni-tool.

_I am deeply sorry for your loss, human, but you are no longer safe in your current residence. Your father informed me of what was to come, and asked that transportation be made discreetly for you, your brother and your uncle. Coordinates will be sent, as will instructions; obey them._

Glancing at it again, she quickly shook her head and pulled a chair up to reach the shelf where her father had left his things. It was another few minutes before she and Liam were gone, nothing left but a silent, dark house and pictures along the walls to tell of a family that was once whole. Raquel paused at the door to the skycar Liam had thrown himself into, looking back at the house and feeling her eyes burn. “Raquel, we need to go.” Liam murmured, and she nodded quickly, swallowing as she ducked into the car.

* * *

 “We went to get my uncle but.. he wouldn't come with us. He refused to leave and not give his brother and sister in law the due respect of a funeral. We had to leave him though, my dad had given Liam his own set of instructions too, I guess.”

“Where did you go? You were only fifteen, and your brother was seventeen; from what I understand of humans, children don't tend to leave until they turn eighteen.” Garrus asked gently, his curiosity pulling Shepard from the raw edges of that horrendous time.

“That's normal, yeah. But.. we went to Ilium like my dad said. Tried to find a woman that he had listed  on the omni-tool he had hidden up in the garage, but she was dead, murdered by some gang from the reports we heard. We were young, and we had already been close knit before we lost our parents. We grieved them together, but when we felt we were having good days we laughed and made jokes while we worked at the docks for anyone who'd hire two kids to unload their cargo.”

“Adventure, nobody but yourselves to give orders, besides the people who hired you. But that sounds like a childhood I would have enjoyed at the time.” Garrus flicked his mandibles when Shepard smiled, shrugging her shoulders offhandedly.

“Yeah, it was. But we ran into some shady captain once, right after I had made a friend at the restaurant we would pick up food from; Liara was everything I thought I wanted to be, smart and pretty for an Asari. When I got back to the docks and helped Liam with the last of the shipment, the captain showed up, drunk off his ass and tried to get me to go with him out into space. Liam shoved him back but before we could get out he… he tossed some canister at us, full of some chemical.”

“The burns?” Garrus asked when she trailed off, and she nodded.

“Yeah, that's where I got the scars. Liam pushed me out of the way, it just splashed onto me when I fell, but he wasn't so lucky. He died there, before anyone could even call for help. When I looked up, I saw him again, though. I was terrified, I was hysterical and thought I was delusional at first but Liara was running up with him.” She paused, letting out a heavy sigh.

“I hadn't looked into who he was after we left Earth, but when I saw him lift that merc captain while Liara tried to help me something just… faded away in me. I remember screaming and trying to get up, grabbing a gun and then shooting the man while he was suspended. But nothing ever happened, and I found out it was because of the other Asari that came with Liara, Matriarch Benezia.”

“You know an Asari Matriarch?” Garrus asked, impressed with the knowledge.

“Sort of. More like I know her daughter; Liara helped me get on my feet after Liam was killed, even funded his funeral costs for me. She’s also the reason I joined the Alliance, but that was because I was angry at her and didn't appreciate the opportunities she basically handed me on a silver platter. It doesn't matter anymore, I was better off joining the Alliance; gave me access to put together what I have on Saren, to find out he was the one who killed my parents. I also found out the ship captain that killed Liam was shipping his cargo, that Saren was on the ship even and didn't do anything.”

She was growing angry again, but Garrus sat up taller as he recalled what Shepard had told him about the death of her brother. “Are you sure Saren was at fault for Liam’s death? You said a Turian was the one who lifted the merc before you killed him, not the Matriarch or Liara.”

“I thought about that for a while, but it couldn't have been him; he was responsible for my parents deaths, why not just pick off the other set of eyes they could identify him for the bomb?” Garrus hummed, not entirely agreeing with her but he could clearly see this was a highly sensitive point of view for her, one that he wouldn't be able to even rattle without having hard proof to sway her. He wasn't about to dig into it, of course, but something just struck him as off about it all.

When both their Omni-tools pinged they were quick to look to the message, using the distraction to pull away from the conversation at hand. Garrus whistled out a sigh as he rose, Shepard rubbing at her eyes before doing the same; duty called, it seemed. But Garrus felt something writhing in the back of his mind over the information he had been told; or, as he watched Shepard as he followed behind her, what he felt she wasn't saying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preteril; large, feline-like predator native to Palaven. Similar to lions of earth, though they lack manes, are plated, and are twice as large.
> 
> There's likely to be a few things that are... well I just kind of put in there like this; this is just my imagination going to town. I don't have a database and I adore MizDirected's own but I don't feel comfortable borrowing her terms and such. I haven't really glanced at the entirety of it, but I don't believe this is a word in there? Please, please correct me if I'm wrong here, guys.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are you trying to get, Shepard? And who's toes are you actually stepping on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So after that last chapter was put up I've been finishing up chapters more and more quickly! So my buffer is back and I can hopefully get you guys some more chapters out quickly.
> 
> Thanks for your views, comments, kudos and saves; everything is appreciated and I sincerely hope my readers are enjoying this so far. As always, my inbox is open for anything you guys might need!

“I’m sorry, Commander, but we cannot divulge sensitive information on other Spectres in our employ. Regardless of their current state of employment. You are already aware of this, as the Alliance Military also refuses to share information of sensitive matters to those without the proper clearance. Your request is denied.” Councilor Tevos spoke evenly, chin held high as she stared down Shepard from across the mezzanine, the set of her shoulders giving away her irritation as Shepard herself folded her arms across her chest and leaned back on one foot impertinently.

Garrus was waiting at the stairs, mandibles flicking agitatedly as he glanced between Shepard and his omni-tool, the harsh glare casting shadows over his face. But then Sparatus cleared his throat and shook his head at Shepard, mandibles flaring as his temper began to rise. “This meeting is adjourned. Direct your mission reports to the Council once you've completed the objectives.” He said brusquely, closing out his interface and turning to leave, though Garrus caught the older turians eye as he glanced back, dipping his head and flicking his mandibles repeatedly before he strode forward and hauled Shepard away from the dais and toward the Tower elevator.

“Don't go antagonizing the Council like that, Shepard. Udina was just made part of the group two weeks ago, he won't be watching your back if you act like this.”

“Udina may be a prick, but he won't let anyone push me out, Garrus. Not when he got in because of me.” She hissed out, frustrated as she yanked her arm out of Garrus’ hand.

“Just.. let's just go stock up on supplies and get going. This one won't be quick, not if we’re headed out to the Traverse.”

“The Traverse? They sent us to Sur’Kesh.”

“Sparatus changed our parameters while you were arguing with Tevos. You asking about Saren dug under his plates, especially when Tevos outright refused to offer up any information. She's usually more diplomatic with us. I've personally never seen her act as defensive as she was.” Garrus admitted, sounding thoughtful as they loaded into the lift and then headed down to the Presidium.

Once they exited Garrus and Shepard agreed to meet back at the Menolith after purchasing their needed requisitions for their months long assignment; Shepard took longer than Garrus had expected, however, and when he tried to contact her she refused to pick up. Grumbling as he contacted Citadel Control and informed them of a flight plan change for the following morning, Garrus settled himself at the helm and began running diagnostics over his ship as he waited for his partner's return.

* * *

It was well after what could be considered dark on the Citadel when Shepard placed her hand against the Menolith’s access door, nearly slipping to the floor as she groaned, the pinging that admitted her onboard making her cringe at the pack of Varren tearing her skull apart. She stumbled as she moved inside, the ship quiet and dark with only the glow of the floor lights giving her a guide toward the back of the ship and her bunk.

When she finally made it to the crew's quarters her first act was to fall upon the first bed she came to, and she cried out when she fell to the floor after leaping up, startled to find it occupied. “Shepard? It's… 0330. Where have you been?” Garrus asked, first disoriented with having been woken up by a woman falling onto him, then angry that she hadn't checked in or even told him where she was going. Turning the lights on though, he cried out in surprise and concern as he dropped onto the floor with her.

“Shepard, what the hell happened?” He asked as he pulled her upright and used his visor to scan her. Her face was black, blue and red, blood dried under one eye and her nose taped down with a wide strip across the bridge. Her lower lip was split open and swollen, and the left side of her jawline sported another gash with violet-red bruising along the bone. Her hands were scuffed, obviously from fighting back, and the light abrasions on her wrists told Garrus she had been bound for some time. He then noticed her shirt was torn across the middle, and a shallow cut was beneath; lifting her shirt revealed bruised ribs.

“I was jumped by some Turians when I was heading to grab my supplies.”

“Right after we left the Tower?” He asked incredulously when she nodded, angry and surprised anyone would have the balls to jump a Spectre in broad daylight.

“They were nice enough to dump me off at some  clinic in the wards. I left before anyone could figure out who I was. Didn't think the Council would appreciate their newest Spectre getting killed by some random group of anti-humans.” She mumbled, lifting her right arm to bring up her omni-tool. “I got some recordings though. I.. you'll have to get them. I need to pass out for a few hours with some medigel.”

Garrus nodded as he pulled her up with him, helping her into her own bunk before leaving, returning a short couple minutes later with a few packs of medigel. It was short work to get her settled and out afterward, and then Garrus bypassed her security to access the recordings she had.

The first few minutes were obviously of Shepard being tackled, beaten profusely by the shouts of pain and her growls as she tried to fight back, as well as some laughing and taunting. It was when he heard Shepard moan that they stopped.

_ “Pick her up, keep her hands behind her back; she's a biotic from what she gave us.” _

Garrus hummed as a few more words were thrown back and forth, arguing about who hit her the hardest or how hard she hit them. “Come on, drop a name.” Garrus repeated in a murmur, hoping someone would slip up.

And when they did, he sat up ramrod straight, muscles tight and mandibles pulled in against his face, dread sweeping over him.

_ “Tevos doesn't want us to kill her, Praxin! Now shut up and help me.” _

He listened to the rest of it with one ear, his mind running over every possibility he could think of, and realizing why exactly Sparatus had sent them elsewhere  _ after _ the meeting had ended. Looking to where Shepard lay, Garrus didn't understand why, if Tevos was truly the one who put out the word to this group, she was targeting Shepard; what made one human woman so threatening to someone in the seat Tevos was in?

_ Didn't think the Council would appreciate their newest Spectre being killed by some random group of anti-humans. _

That couldn't be; the Asari had always been more than happy, not to mention helpful, of introducing humanity to the Galaxy and all it's known functions. Turians Garrus could understand, the animosity between the two species was still very much felt on both sides. But the Asari and humans? There was no real, plausible reason for Tevos to hold illwill toward Shepard or humanity that he was aware of; had humanity done something to the Asari before they had been taken in as the newest additions to the galactic whole? He'd have to do some digging, that was for sure, but even so why would Sparatus send them somewhere on the complete other side of the Galaxy?

The turian councilor obviously suspected something of his Asari counterpart, Garrus was able to pick up on that by even that brief look they had shared. He needed advice.. Garrus was unsure how else to move forward with this, who to talk to without tipping Tevos, or anyone that could be involved, to his investigations. Sparatus was out unless he was given the councilors private address, and that was not going to happen in the next century let alone now.

Looking through his contacts, he growled to himself as he ran through name after name after name. Until one sprang up out of the list, not only because Garrus knew he could be trusted, but also because he had known Saren more than Garrus thought anyone still alive did. And Saren was who put Tevos on edge. Connecting the call, Garrus waited anxiously for an answer, hoping he wouldn't have to reconnect a second time.

He was glad when the call was picked up, though he waited when he heard gunfire.

“Hold on a minute, Vakarian.” He heard shouted over a loud booming, a grenade he guessed. It was only a few minutes, still filled with gunfire and the occasional explosion, before Garrus saw the face in the screen.

Nihlus Kryik grinned proudly, eyes narrowed arrogantly as he flared his mandibles wide. “Need something, Vakarian? I'm a busy Turian, cleaning up some mercs out in the traverse.”

“Doesn't sound like it anymore, Nihlus. How many grenades did you need?”

“Numbers don't count, not if you've got a good supplier. I am busy, however, so let's cut to the chase; why are you calling me?”

Garrus blew a sigh out his nose before speaking, glancing over at Shepard for a moment. “Shepard was jumped earlier, she just stumbled back to the Menolith maybe an hour ago; she had recordings of the incident but the evidence is damning to someone she was asking for information from.”

“Is she alright? I know humans aren't as soft as they look, but she's still just that.”

“She'll be alright, I think. She was asking for information about Saren, Nihlus. She was asking Tevos to release some information about the last few months he was still a Spectre. Tevos was..”

“Defensive? Flustered? Angry? She's not happy about people poking around that mess, Garrus.”

“Her attackers dropped her name, Nihlus. They said it was Tevos who put out the contract, but she wasn't to be killed.” Nihlus sobered immediately, his battle high coming to an abrupt end as he stared back at Garrus. “I'm.. not sure where to turn to with this.”

“You tell no one, Vakarian.  _ No one _ hears about what happened to her, those recordings. Not even the Council. Download them somewhere else, encrypt the hell out of them and send them to someone who will not listen to them.” Nihlus told him, his voice hard, eyes completely serious. He shook his head when Garrus made to argue and question, cutting him off. “Just do your job, and keep Shepard off the Citadel for a while. Listen to me this time, Garrus. Watch her back, and yours. I'll let you know if something changes.”

The call was cut off abruptly, and Garrus was left with more questions than answers. But he trusted Nihlus, and the warning there had been clear as day; Tevos was not to be trusted, no matter how many ways he looked at her name being dropped as something or someone else. His eyes flew to Shepard again, watching her chest rise and fall evenly, worry striking him where he sat like a freighter hauling the whole of the Krogan populace.

“What did you get into, Shepard?” He asked the quiet room, rubbing at his eyes with one finger and thumb before falling back into his bunk. Suddenly exhausted, he closed his eyes to try and sleep, knowing it wasn't about to come with so much running through his mind that night.

* * *

Days passed by in a blur; they reached the contact Sparatus had sent them to find, they brought the Salarian aboard to locate the Prothean Artifact he had discovered but allowed mercs to steal, and they staked out the impressive base that the Blue Suns faction had taken residence in.

And once Shepard had infiltrated the larger of the three buildings, they found out the man in charge was a wanted criminal, with a toe tag attached. Shepard was happy to deliver the man's head after reading up on his extensive background; raiding, slave trade, rape, arson, terrorism. The man had every kind of blood on his hands and her blood boiled even thinking about wasting a bullet on the man.

Waiting where they were, a good twenty meters away from each other in sniper perches of their own, Shepard was irritated, she was frustrated still of her getting nowhere with the Council, and she was  _ hot _ . The godforsaken planet they were on felt like a hothouse, and she wondered why the Blue Suns always seemed drawn to tropical saunas.

At least until she heard a bullet ricochet past her, a second grazing her bare arm. “Ow, dammit!” She hissed lowly, pulling up her underarmor and then grabbing her chest plate, pauldrons and gauntlets to reattach them quickly.

“I told you not to take your armor off.” Garrus grumbled through the comms, making her sneer to herself as she brought her sights up to her eye and searched for her shooter. Finding his own scope glinting in the sun, she made quick work of the sniper as Garrus did with a second.

But when the Salarian they had brought along requested backup, pinned down out of range of either of them, Garrus ordered Shepard to stay put even after Desh had spotted Harlan, the outpost leader and soon to be toe-tag holder. But Shepard couldn't hear much of anything past the blood roaring in her ears. She ignored his orders as she dropped from her perch, rushing to give backup to Desh only to nearly run straight into Garrus.

And then bullets were on them, pinning them down behind a fallen tree. “Dammit, Shepard! I told you to stay put and give us covering fire!” Garrus hissed as he checked his heat sink.

“I'm sorry, oh great one. Next time I'll just be sure to have you repeat everything so I know for sure where I'll be better suited on the battlefield.” She hissed back, Garrus blinking and looking to her in surprise; where had that come from?

It was pushed aside as soon as a grenade was lobbed over their cover, and Shepard quickly tossed it back. But they were blown from their cover by the explosion as it went off just after she threw it, Garrus watching as she rose and disappeared under her cloak. He called out to her, angry, but was forced back down when bullets sprayed over his shields.

“Shepard, get back to the shuttle. That's an  _ order. _ ” He ground out into the comms, relaying to Desh that they were retreating; the Salarian was happy to agree, chiming in nervously that he would return to the shuttle as quickly as he could. Garrus covered the Salarian as Desh cautiously retreated. Only when Garrus managed to lose his own attackers, whether by shooting them or losing them in the trees and brush of the planet, did he return to the still quiet shuttle to see Desh on his Omni-tool and Shepard was leaning against the side, ankles crossed and looking as livid as Garrus felt.

Invading her space and forcing her to look up at him, even though he was well aware she wasn't as short as most humans her age. “The mission’s over, Shepard. Get in the shuttle, write up your report and send it to Sparatus. You ever fuck up like that and disobey orders again and you're off my ship!”

“Disobey orders again? We’re equals out here, Garrus! At least that's what I thought! If you feel otherwise, say it now and I'm gone!” She snarled back, nostrils flared and mouth set in a grimace. “Figures you wouldn't think I could be on your level.” She hissed as she shoved past him, stalking back into the jungle despite Garrus shouting for her to get into the shuttle.

He paced, as angry as ever, until she returned almost an hour later. He clenched his hands repeatedly as he heard her rustling the underbrush, knowing it was her even before she appeared in the small clearing where they had left she shuttle earlier that day. “What is that?” He asked when he saw a helmet in her hands, visor cracked and blood splattered on the rim.

When she tossed it to him, his eyes widened as he realized the head stilled rattled inside of it, mandibles dropping in surprise when it stopped after hitting his boots. “If you think I'm not on your level now, guess you must be way out of my league. Feel free to take credit for his bounty, I don't care.” She stalked past him and threw herself into the shuttle, taking the pilot's seat and firing the core up even before Desh or Garrus followed her in.

Garrus was silent as she flew them back to the Menolith, hidden some klicks south so they wouldn't have been spotted by the group, eyes locked onto the head that he had wrapped in an emergency blanket across from him. He was startled when Desh rose and exited the shuttle, now docked in the small bay of the ship; he looked to see Shepard rising and stomping out as well, following after her.

“You know what, Garrus? We are in different leagues. The Normandy is docked at the fueling station in the Aquila system. VI is set for the station and Anderson knows I'm on my way.”

“You're leaving?” Garrus blurted out, startled at the news. Was she really that angry?

“We aren't partners, that's pretty clear to me after last night. Partners don't hack into each other's ‘tools and dig around through encrypted and  _ private _ files.”

Now he was lost; someone had dug through her files? And what files was she even talking about? “All I looked through were the recordings you had when you were jumped, Shepard. I didn't look-”

“Stow it. I'm done working with someone who goes behind my back with information that's pretty damn important to me and my life. Feel free to tell Nihlus that I'll be looking for him.” Shepard was gone before he could say anything else, and he realized that she had heard his call to Nihlus. That she was angry he hadn't spoken to her about it.

“ _ Spirits _ … Way to go, Vakarian.” He muttered to himself as his shoulders fell and shook his head. He wasn't about to change her mind, not when she was as upset as she was, but he'd send a message to Captain Anderson, ask that he be kept in the loop of things if the Captain was able to. As much of a misunderstanding as this was, Garrus could see how she felt betrayed, left out of something she had been chasing for years.

Nothing he  _ could  _ do would fix that, and he knew trying would only make things worse. Garrus could only wait and hope she would forgive him sooner rather than later.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst can happen when your heart and mind is clouded with grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> So I wanted to get this chapter out like... days ago buuuut. Well I got me a nice tatoo. A nice, nice one of Thane's Prayer to Kalahira before his passing in ME3. I love it. I really do. Now to figure out what to get for the love of my life who is Garrus.. Anyway! Here's the next installment. c: This chapter is a bit shorter, sorry guys; I needed to move things along so apologies if this may feel... rushed? It might for all you, but believe me it certainly wasn't as I wrote it. Took me quite some time before I felt this was alright to move on from.
> 
> Every comment, kudos, and read are appeciated! As always, my inbox is open to any questions or constructive criticism from all you readers.

**Six Weeks Later**

Shepard sat quietly, breather helmet in place and face plate darkened, jostling around as the shuttle she and about a dozen other men were packed into soared through the heavy storm of the planet Akuze. The woman had her hands clasped loosely in front of her as she leaned over her knees, her eyes, though shielded, were dull and red rimmed from tears long since gone. She was leaning slightly to her right, the left side still sore and the scars still raw and risen painfully like welts; no amount of medi gel could ease the discomfort she felt, more so in part to it being heartache that plagued her, grief that tormented her.

The Spectres’ thoughts drifted to the reason for her misery just two weeks prior; a meeting Anderson had asked for, what she had run into, or rather who, when she had arrived. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes as she willed them back, resisting the urge to wipe at her face and shake herself; the fight with Saren had been an unexpected mark on her soul.

David Anderson was dead, her mentor and the father figure who pulled her from the brink more times than she deserved was gone. Shepard herself was torn to pieces, both literally and figuratively. Her current location was both in part due to the Council forcing her to take a leave of absence, as well as agreeing to look into the last colony that the Captain had been asked to check in with; they had gone dark weeks ago, and Shepard had taken up the mantle as acting ground leader as a step in for Admiral Hackett.

Miserable as she was, Shepard was on her feet and the first out of the shuttle when it touched ground, the storm easing up from the buffeting they had taken on their descent through the atmosphere. She took in her surroundings while the men fell in line behind her, three more shuttles landing nearby until the full platoon was on the ground and moving forward, searching the small colony quietly for any signs of why they had gone dark.

None was found, the only thing amiss being that not a soul was in the area they had entered. Shepard sent her team out, the men taking their orders easily before fanning out and searching the prefab housing units, her comms reading the same that came from her own search from the entirety of the platoon. She was just about to radio up to the _SSV Kiev_ , circling the planet in wait, before one of her Lieutenants radioed in with news.

“Spectre, there's a lot of blood here mixed in with the sand. A whole lot. No bodies but you're gonna want to see this.” Jessica Faulkner, a good soldier that Shepard had seen some potential in for a squad lead; she had been ecstatic to take on the role, but her head hadn't inflated in the past few days she had done drills with her assigned team while the ship traveled between systems at a sedate pace.

“Got your coordinates, we’ll be there shortly.” Shepard responded, hailing her team to fall in and then jogging toward the Lieutenant’s team. The third team, led by Staff Lieutenant Jesus Iglesias, was already with Faulkner when Shepard arrived. She stopped when she felt the ground tremble, looking to her feet and watching the sand shift even as she stood still. But before she could call out a warning for everyone to be cautious, the ground erupted with a terrifying roaring in not one, but three places all around her and her platoon; the screaming started even before the dust and sand had settled, Shepard feeling someone run right into her and knock her to the ground.

Standing up quickly and pulling her assault rifle, Shepard grit her teeth at the sight before her; three Thresher Maws, adolescents by their size, spewing acid and striking at the soldiers, _her soldiers_ , as they fled or fired, terror driving them as they stumbled, others screamed in agony, some not moving on the ground.

One man struggled as he tripped, Shepard grabbing at the man, a Corporal Toombs she realized, before she hauled ass back the other way. “Everyone convene at the rendezvous point! Get out of here!” She shouted into her radio, repeating the message before she felt her back burning terribly, the pain stopping her and dropping her to her knees as she screamed. Toombs screamed beside her, and she clenched her jaw tight enough that she thought it would break before she tapped her medi gel port and shakily got to her feet, the roaring of the Maws pushing her as she grabbed the Corporal again and headed away from the colony, blurred vision able to focus on what looked to be a rock formation.

She attempted to hail the _Kiev_ but when only silence bled into her ears she felt the color drain from her face; looking skyward, she hoped the ship was still in the sky but she severely doubted from what she could hear. Or rather, what she could not. Chin trembling as fear began to set in, panic rising alongside it and rolling over her like a tidal wave, Shepard dropped Toombs as she fell to the ground, clutching at her head as she breathed shakily. His screams wouldn't stop, and she closed her eyes to the Maws still roaring, to her people still dying, screaming loudly after only a moment herself.

But soon she began muttering, trembling as she looked around her, Toombs sobbing madly as she began speaking quickly, muttering to herself as she gripped Toombs and rose, stumbling with every step she took, her back leaving a trail as each foot fell onto the sand again. Toombs quieted as Shepard refused to stop, eyes wide and unseeing as she muttered like a man broken, fear consuming her.

Finally, when everything was quiet but the wind, she stopped. Toombs was dropped where he was, mumbling as he clutched his head and curled into himself, while Shepard tore her helmet off and sank onto her knees, resting back on her thighs before she wept. “No no no… Thresher Maws can't be here. Not enough food, nothing to hunt.” She rambled before she was lying on her side, much like Toombs was.

She closed her eyes for a moment before she heard the thrusters of a shuttle, opening them but clenching them shut again as she let her misery overwhelm her; the logo was unmistakable, even in her distraught state.

Cerberus.

“No, no.. don't take me back. I can't go back.” She muttered in a rush, Toombs groaning as she heard men moving to them, heard a voice that was familiar, hazily so, bark orders to leave her alone, to get the other and return to their ship. “Now, _human._ ”

“This is on your head then, Arterius. Hitch a ride in their shuttle.” Someone spat back, angry and disappointed before the shuttle's thrusters erupted and faded into the silence.

Shepard whimpered where she was as she clutched at her ears, covering them but unable to get the screaming to stop, mumbling and rambling. She stopped when a hand gripped her shoulder, pushing her forward and onto her chest more before another unsealed her armor and pulled it from her back. Shepard cried out as the metal, seared into her, pulled flesh away with it, throbbing and burning and stabbing into her with each beat of her heart. “Make it stop.. make it stop.” She begged, reduced to a sobbing mess.

Her eyes opened later, but she inhaled shakily as she swallowed over a lump in her throat, the pain reduced significantly. “I am sorry this happened, hu- Shepard. You weren't supposed to be here.” A voice whispered to her, flanged but flat, tired. “You were _never_ supposed to be here.”

“Saren.” She cracked out, feeling a hand on her shoulder squeeze comfortingly. “I'm going to die here.” Shepard said, hearing nothing from the turian.

“I've sent a distress beacon. The nearest Alliance vessel will be here within an hour. You aren't going to die, not today.” He assured her, and she sobbed once as she reached for him, squeezing his fingers when he took it in his own.

“Cerberus.. you can't work for them, too. They did this. They did this. They killed them, they killed us all.” She muttered, quieting when Saren hummed behind her.

“Calm yourself, Shepard. I will remain here until your Alliance arrives. You are not going to die.” He consoled her brusquely.

Delirious as she was, Shepard didn't notice when a shuttle arrived, didn't notice when Saren pulled out of her grip and disappeared, or even when she was put on a stretcher and rushed to the ship in the shuttle.

* * *

“What do you mean she was on _Akuze_?” Garrus shouted, angry and worried as he demanded further answers from the Doctor he was speaking to on his omni-tool. The Salarian was quick speaking, lost Garrus with nearly every medical term he uttered, and furthered his rage when he did understand.

“Mordin, you get your ass to the Citadel and you _help her_!” Garrus snarled, rushing to the cockpit of the Menolith and setting course for the Citadel himself.

“Already here. A doctor Karin Chakwas contacted me for assistance, experience with Thresher Maw acid helpful. Was closest able to assist. In good hands, Garrus.”

“I'll be there-”

“Mission important now, finish and return. Will monitor Spectre. Remains in ICU of Huerta Memorial for now, will contact if things change. Finish mission, Garrus, no help hovering.”

Garrus growled to himself as the call was cut short, falling into the pilot's seat heavily as he rubbed at his eyes, a headache forming behind them. He knew the Salarian was right; Doctor Mordin Solus was rarely, if ever, wrong. He had met the Salarian weeks before, just after Shepard had left, while dispersing of some mercs on Omega, following a trail to the Blue Suns lead, Vido Santiago. And Mordin was right, he wasn't going to be of help to anyone if he returned without following through with his current assignment.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you can't get over a tragedy alone? Your best friend steps in even if you don't want them to. But what happens when your best friend does something that may just end with more heartache?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been nearly a month now.. sheesh, where'd the time go? Happy holidays everyone! I hope your year was an excellent one, and that 2017 will be even more magnificent for you all! c:
> 
> I know I said earlier that I've got some buffer chapters between but some things have recently come up and muse has been.. well, not gone but absent. I'll get in a few paragraphs here or there for the chapter that I'm working on and then I run a blank. Been frustrating me beyond the extreme.
> 
> Still, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It's a rough one, but it furthers the story exponentially! A critical turning point for everyone. Yay for that!
> 
> I appreciate you all! Any questions, comments, concerns, or just a pop in to say hello are always welcome! I do want you all to be aware that I added this chapter from my phone, so it was a bit difficult to be edit things; if you see anything please don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> Again, happy holidays and hope your new year is amazing if I don't update before then!

Screaming, that was all she could hear even now. Weeks after being pulled from the trap, after being freed from the sand and dirt and wind and pale yellow sky. Weeks after the events on Akuze toppled everything she had begun to build as a Spectre. Her career was on the back burner for both the Council and the Alliance, the honor of being humanity's first Spectre now being set aside like she was just a leaf that had refused to fall from its branch.

Her apartment was dark, cold and noisy; her tv was on, though she wasn't seated to watch the news feeds that played; her music system was cranked up far above what was tolerable for her neighbors, but considering they tended to be Spectre’s themselves no one seemed bothered by it so far.

But Shepard was far from the controls for either system, locked away in her room as she struggled to keep the screaming as far from her mind as she could. Medication only further exasperated the issue, sleep leaving her sweating from her ordeal and wide awake within an hour. Company didn't help her state of mind either, she found; everyone kept treating her like she was glass, cracked glass that would splinter if shifted in any direction.

Letting out a shaky breath, head in her hands and elbows on her knees, she brushed aside her ragged hair as she stood stiffly and shuffled into her bathroom. Arms crossed tightly over her abdomen, body hunched forward slightly, she nudged the door shut just enough that she could escape by flinging it open with hands on the edge of it.

Shaking hands turned the water on quickly, but she only stood and watched it rain over the floor and down into the drain for some time, eyes hazy and haunted as her brow was furrowed, her lips and chin trembling. She blinked suddenly and stripped her shorts and underwear off, having forsaken wearing shirts unless she knew someone would be visiting; the wound across her back from the Thresher Maw’s acid was agonizing even now, and still poorly healed despite medi-gel and other medication she had been given.

She flung herself under the heated water, less so now after having stood and watched the water for so long, and she sobbed at the stinging agony that shot through her back. She sunk to her knees as she pressed her forehead against the cool wall, hearing the screams of the platoon she had been with reverberating in her head and unable to think of anything else. Hands over her ears, she wept as the agony in her back became almost unbearable, the water cooling but still burning her raw, damaged skin.

A knock on her door startled her, and she whirled around and pressed her back against the wall, reaching for a gun that wasn't there, panic dropping over her like a veil as she watched a three fingered hand open the door slowly. Before it opened fully though, she heard a familiar voice and her panic broke apart into the misery that swamped her.

“Shepard, is it alright if I come in?” His voice was soft, patient she knew, but her throat was tight and she couldn't find it in herself to say anything. She pulled her knees up and buried her face in them, shoulders shaking as she wept. Panic sprung forward once again, but of an entirely different kind; how could she face Garrus like she was? He wouldn't be any different from the others, he would walk on eggshells around her like the rest of them. Especially after she had left things what felt like forever ago.

But as she made to deny him, the door opened and closed fully, her ears catching the hiss of the locking mechanism she had purposely hacked into upon her return. “Shepard.” Garrus said softly, his boots stopping just in front of her and the water shutting off. “Can I take a look at it?” He asked gently, but she titled her head away, arms tightening around her legs.

“Okay, it's alright. Let's get some clothes on though, before you freeze.” He said instead, the door opening again and a rush of cold air left her shivering. When it closed again, Shepard heard some clothes rustling as they were set on the sink counter, or at least that's where she guessed they had been set since she refused to look up at him.

“Shepard, come on. It's alright.” He urged calmly, sub vocals humming soothingly. His hand was so warm against her forearm, but she flinched back toward the wall, whimpering when the wound twinged sharply. When she made no further move to stand, though, Garrus took a seat on the floor next to her and pulled her over to him. Careful with her back, he wrapped his far arm around her front gently, humming softly to her.

Eventually Shepard's grip on her knees loosened, and when she wrapped them back around Garrus she wept quietly into his shoulder. “I'm sorry, Shepard. I should have been there with you.”

She pulled back and glared at him, one that held less rage and more sorrow. “No! No you shouldn't have, Garrus. You'd be back there, with everyone else. I couldn't..”

He pulled her back against him when she began to fall apart again, surreptitiously glancing at the burn on her back as best he could. “You did everything you could have, Shepard. It was a trap, plain and simple; nobody could have known beforehand.” She nodded her head against him, and when he stood she followed his pull without a struggle.

“Shepard, have they given you anything for this?” He asked, hand moving to a clean section on her back. She closed her eyes and nodded, turning away and grabbing a towel before fumbling with a pill bottle.

“A Salarian sent something, but I… can't reach it.” She whispered, sounding ashamed that the injury was impeding even her recovery. Garrus said nothing though, just dipped his head and grabbed the small canister that she had motioned to near the sink.

“Can I?” He asked, and after a few seconds she ducked her head and turned her back to him fully. When the towel dropped from where it concealed the burn, Garrus couldn't help the sharp inhale at the sight of it; raw and angry red around the edges, the skin looked mutilated and completely warped from her left shoulder down to her hip, spreading across to half cover the old chemical burn she had gotten before joining the Alliance. “Shepard, did they release you from Huerta with it looking like this?”

“Uhm.. Sort of. Chakwas convinced the doctors that I would do better here. I asked.. It was too quiet, too busy in the hospital.” She told him, and he nodded when she looked over her shoulder at him. “No one’s come for a few days though. They… Keep turning everything off, and I couldn't control my biotics when the last nurse came to look at it. I didn't mean to, but I knocked her over and she screamed.” Shepard began mumbling about someone screaming then, chin tucked down against her chest as she clenched her eyes shut tightly.

“Shepard, Mordin Solus is on the Menolith right now, the one who sent you this medicine. He needs to look at this, alright? Do you want to go there, or have him come here?” Garrus asked, concerned when she hunched her shoulders and curled into herself. “It's alright, Shepard. You'll be alright.” He told her, soon sending a message to Mordin and asking that he drop whatever he was doing and head over.

It took some time for Shepard to finally get dressed, tossing a thin robe over her shoulders and back rather than pulling a shirt on, and once she was half asleep on her bed, Garrus having slipped a mild sedative into some water, he turned the stereo down to a more reasonable level just before Mordin rang the doorbell. Letting him in, the Salarian was quick to note the state of the apartment and the background noise.

“State of disarray, loud noise to drown out memories, horrific experience. Thresher Maw acid highly dangerous, lucky to have survived without more damage than she had taken. In her room?” Garrus nodded, grabbing the can he had set on the table before heading into Shepard’s room with Mordin.

He took one look, eyes narrowed, before he asked Shepard if she could understand him, his omni-tool blaring to life and lighting the room with its orange glow. “Gave her Huerta issued sedatives?”

“Gave her the only ones I could find. There, on the end table.” He gestured to a bottle on the table near her, and Mordin picked it up with one hand moving to adjust the lighting on the wall nearby.

“Heavy narcotics, not Huerta issue. A Dr. Yarlen Dorsen, never heard such a doctor working on Citadel. Perhaps works for psychiatric ward. Still, such a high dose? Highly unnecessary. Possibly more detrimental long term.”

“I'm here, doc. They won't go away…” Shepard slurred tiredly, opening her eyes hazily as one hand gripped the sheets tightly. “I just need them to stop.” She muttered, Mordin soon asking if she could sit up so he could take a look at her back. Once she was sitting up in bed, Garrus taking a seat next to her to help steady her as she weaved, Mordin hummed thoughtfully as he scanned her and then looked at the wound more closely.

“Infection present, necrosis of tissue. Mentioned last nurse was fearful due to biotic outburst? Emotional trauma known to disrupt biotic control, nurse should not have been frightened. Can do little here, need her to board the Menolith for further treatment. Would also do well for mental state to be somewhere still familiar but have companions close at hand. Lack of sleep obvious, nightmares probable as well as pain. Better able to help manage both on ship. Should not be alone, Garrus.” Mordin advised, taking the canister from Garrus and spraying it over the wound.

Within the hour the three had managed to board the Menolith without attracting much attention. Mordin asked Garrus to take her to the small medbay while he ran a few samples he had taken. “Cupboard below counter directly to right of sink has burn dressings, apply liberally.” With a nod they headed separate directions.

Settling Shepard on a bed, Garrus found the dressings and did as Mordin asked, careful to cover as much as he could without causing more harm than needed to gently press it into place. “Garrus.” Shepard muttered, eyes flickering around the room, unfocused and fogged.

“Shepard.” She tried to focus on him, but when she couldn't he could see panic rising in her. “You're aboard the Menolith, you're safe, Shepard.”

“Not on Akuze? Where's Toombs? They took him, Garrus. They took him when we got away.” She told him, becoming frantic as she clutched at her head, breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

“Who took him, Shepard? Who took Toombs?” Garrus asked, seeing it wasn't simply a case of trauma created delusion.

“I don't know.. He was there, he shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't have been there.” She said pitifully, crying as the sedative began to wear off. He was confused though, even as she sounded confused.

“Shepard, who shouldn't have been there with you?” He asked her gently, hands gently pulling her arms back to her lap. When she looked at him though, he knew before she even said his name.

“Saren. Saren told them to leave me, but.. But he came back, he set the beacon. He set the beacon and.. And.. And he told me I'd be okay. He waited, Garrus. Saren stayed. He shouldn't have been there..” She trailed off again, clenching her eyes shut as she muttered under her breath.

“Shepard, are you sure? Are you positive he told them to leave you, and then he set the distress beacon?” Garrus asked firmly, Shepard breaking down as she affirmed her words over and over. Garrus himself was wary and concerned; Saren had only ever spelled trouble for Shepard and her family, had only tried to destroy her at every turn it seemed. Why would he help her on Akuze, and why was he there to begin with?

“They took Toombs, but they left me. I couldn't hold on to him, I promised I would hold onto him but I had to let go. It hurts Garrus, it won't stop hurting.” She sobbed, and when Mordin came in he was quick to give her a sedative and she soon quieted. Garrus left the room when Mordin said he would take care of her injury, telling the Spectre surgery would be required to remove the necrotic tissue and burn out the infection but she would otherwise be better off onboard with them.

Searching through channels of contacts, Garrus finally made headway into his search and sent out a call. It picked up on the third chime, and sharp eyes stared stonily at him from where he stood in the crew's quarters.

“Vakarian. You find this wise, contacting someone well known throughout Council space as a criminal?” Saren spat impatiently, mandibles clicking.

“Why?” Garrus asked, his words nearly a hiss as he glared at the ex-Spectre, at one of the people he had looked up to and made him want to become Spectre himself.

“You'll have to be more specific, Vakarian.” Sub vocals growled impatiently, and his eyes focused onto something out of view for a moment. “My time is more valuable than spent answering inane questions.”

“Shepard. Why help her?”

And Garrus was startled by how abruptly the silver Turians sub vocals quieted, at how he seemed to deflate even just a little bit. Had he been anyone else, any other species, Garrus would have been unable to identify the emotions flitting rapidly across Saren’s features and how his sub vocals softly keened before Saren silenced them. Sorrow, pain, anger, regret. Had Garrus missed something happening between them?

“She was not supposed to have been there, Vakarian. It was not anticipated. Contrary to what you've been led to believe, I do not hate Commander Shepard. Her involvement in my business was purely accidental, and her anger directed onto me is wrongly placed. But she refuses to see the truth, so I remain the enemy in her eyes.” Saren told Garrus quietly, mandibles looser against his stern face.

“You attempted to plant a bomb, her parents deaths were orchestrated, you murdered an Alliance Captain and nearly killed Shepard, and now Akuze? If I've missed anything that would shine a different light, I'm all ears, Arterius.” Garrus growled out, fists clenching as his mandibles twitched angrily.

“I am only a criminal to the eyes and ears of the public, Vakarian. My status as a Spectre was never revoked. A scapegoat was needed, so to speak, and we are among the best.”

It took a few moments for Saren’s cryptic words to sink in, but Garrus let his mandibles fall slack when they did. “Who do you believe asked for Shepard to become a Spectre, truly? Nihlus? Surely you and I both know him well enough to realize his interests on becoming a mentor are little to none. He works alone for a reason, Vakarian, and has never taken a recruit to train in the years after his own training was complete.”

“You destroy her family and then put in a good word for her. You claim you're under cover, deeply enough that you're among the most wanted criminals in both Citadel and Alliance space, but you still kept the one person who likely wants to kill you most alive after leading her right into a Thresher Maw nest. You expect me to believe this?”

“File 46-a963e81.” Saren told him coldly, eyes narrowing as his anger rose again.

He was quiet as Garrus found the file in the council databases, deeply entrenched and hidden, skimming through before his face fell from angry to neutral. Once finished, he looked back to Saren and just stared at the elder.

“Does she know?”

“Of course not. Only the Council, Nihlus, myself and now you are aware of my motives. Give her the file if you wish, but she will not see the truth.” Saren moved to shut down the link but Garrus stopped him.

“Saren… She will. She's changed, and she'll believe you after what you did for her. I have one request, and I hope you'll honor it.” When Saren remained silent, his eyes less harsh at his words, Garrus continued. “I ask, as a fellow Spectre, that you meet aboard the Menolith. She needs closure, Saren, now more than ever after what you've done for her. She needs to understand.”

Saren studied Garrus for some time before answering, voice tight and sub vocals bleeding suspicion. “Send me the coordinates, I will do what I am able to. Don't expect warm greetings, Vakarian. Change does not always precipitate good.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret meetings, revelations and, maybe, acceptance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Early Christmas from me, the next chapter! :D
> 
> Enjoy and I hope all your celebrations this holiday season are happy, safe, and fun. Thanks for reading guys; every comment, every kudos, view or anything makes me giddy inside and happy to know others enjoy what I'm putting out there. As always, any questions, concerns, constructive criticism, or just a little drop in to say hello are always welcome.
> 
> I'll see you all in the new year. c:

Four days later, in the middle of the Terminus systems and in the middle of space, the Menolith waited quietly as it slowly drifted through the vast emptiness; Arkina, the pilot Garrus had hired after Shepard had come back aboard, happily went through various algorithms she had been wanting to run through with her diagnostics as they waited, the Turian happily humming to herself. Mordin was locked away in his makeshift quarters turned lab, testing a few samples he had picked up on the planet Garrus had just left behind prior to seeing Shepard on the Citadel.

Garrus was in the med bay slumped heavily in a chair, eyes on Shepard but distant with his knowledge that Saren would be meeting them sometime in the next hour or so. Shepard herself was sleeping almost soundly, the occasional tossing and turning before she settled again; Mordin had purged her system of the narcotics that had been given to her, had studied their makeup to find they had been pumping a depressant into her along with the pain aid. Garrus sent out feelers for the doctor listed, but had yet to receive word on any possible leads, though he was patient enough now that Shepard was with them and Mordin was taking care of her.

A ping on his omni-tool pulled him from his thoughts, and he stood with a groan, limbs stiff from sitting as he was for so long, before striding toward the cockpit. “Unknown shuttle has just requested clearance to connect with decon. Allow clearance, Spectre?” Arkina asked quickly, flitting from one set of diagnostics to another as Garrus joined her.

“Yes, please. We’ve been expecting the shuttle. Not a word of what happens to anyone, Arkina; I trust you with everything aboard the Menolith, but this is classified beyond either of our pay grades. Once our guest is aboard, scan for bugs every five minutes and be sure to activate the cloaking system. All non-essential processes directed to maintain cover.”

“Clearance granted, they will be free of decon within five minutes. Bug sweeps set, I’ll be sure to monitor them carefully, Spectre. All processes directed to maintaining our cloak. Do you mind if I continue to run diagnostics from here, or would you prefer I move to the lower deck and give you all some privacy? I believe our guest may be...  wary of my being here, and I know enough about him to be frightened of what he may do, Spectre.” Arkina admitted, looking back at him with a nervous glint in her eyes.

Garrus smiled and patted her shoulder. “Wherever you’re most comfortable, Arkina. You’re free to lock and scramble the door once he’s aboard if you’d prefer to stay up here. We won’t stray too far from the med bay and the mess hall once things have been explained, I promise you that. He was insistent that he come in the unmarked shuttle, and that he would only be bringing one guard with him to keep up appearances. I know his so called guard, a mutual friend of both Saren and myself.” Once Arkina said she would prefer to remain in the cockpit, Garrus nodded and left her to it, leaning against the bulkhead as he waited for the decon process to finish its cycle.When the door hissed open, Garrus’ eyes narrowed as he focused on the two Turian’s who stepped before him; Saren stepped forward and focused on Garrus in return, the broader Turian’s eyes sharp and full of steel. But Garrus could see the discomfort flit across his features, could see it in his stiff stance. The other Turian bypassed Saren altogether, arm held out as his mandibles flared happily.

“Garrus, good to see you! Too bad the circumstances are pretty shitty.” Nihlus Kryik greeted without hesitation, casting a glance back to Saren for a moment after Garrus took his arm firmly. “Don’t mind him, he’s just pissed he finally has to let someone else in on this mess; I’m glad it’s you and Shepard instead of someone else, though. Better you two than someone we don’t even know if we can trust. How is she?” Nihlus asked, and Garrus was hesitant as he looked to Saren.

But what he was made him speak, looking to Saren more than Nihlus. “She’s doing better now that Mordin has been acting as her doctor; whoever was prescribing her medication on the Citadel was trying to keep her drugged up and out of it, giving her depressants hidden in her pain meds. The acid burn is bad, it was to begin with, but Mordin went in and removed what he could to help her heal better. She… she isn’t sleeping well, but after a mess like Akuze who can blame her?” He growled near the end, eyes turning sharp to glare at the silver Turian.

“I informed you before, her presence was not accounted for. Shepard should not have been there, Vakarian. When I received the transmission she and the platoon had set out I was planet side just after the Maws had been contained. When I found her, she had been dragging another half alive human behind her, and…”

“Saren, don’t keep him in the dark now. Spit it out, will you?” Nihlus ground out, mandibles flicking irritably before Saren grumbled and continued.

“Cerberus set the Maws loose, and they took the other human. When they moved to execute her I stopped them, and set a distress beacon so she would be picked up by nearby cruisers. She… Shepard was dying though, she reeked of it and I could not leave without knowing she would get the best chance she had.” He grew quiet, eyes softening as he seemed to look inward.

“Why the want for her to live? She’s been a talon under your plates for years, and you’ve just beaten her back every time until now.” Garrus asked, and Saren glared up at him. In his sub vocals, however, Garrus heard sorrow, grief.

“The relationship between her father and I was one of… kinship, perhaps friends. I did not kill her father and mother, but my name was traced through a few supposedly anonymous messages sent to them; as heavily encrypted as they were, it was assumed that I had sent them to detonate the bomb that caused their accident. The death of Vincent was… tragic, he was brilliant for a human, and his loss was missed. A great deal more than most ever knew.” His stance was all aggression and intimidation, but his sub vocals and eyes were heavy with loss, and seeing this in such an imposing figure, both in word and in deed, Garrus knew what he heard was the truth that had been buried beneath so much red tape and blacked out mission reports.

“You don’t have to convince me, Saren. You have to tell her, make her understand. She’s… well, to put it mildly, she’s terrified of just about everything when she’s awake. We’ve been keeping her sedated since we brought her aboard, she keeps muttering about her platoon dying. Shepard isn’t like she used to be, Mordin said she might never be again if she can’t overcome any of this. But she’s a strong woman, we all know that, so hopefully hearing this will snap something back in place for her. Saren, make her listen even if she’s afraid. She still packs a punch, and her biotics are unpredictable right now, but she’s not up to full strength yet. Don’t break an arm if you can help it; she’s in the med bay.”

Saren nodded as he and Nihlus followed Garrus through the ship and toward the med bay, where they found Mordin emerging from the room. “Ah, Spectres Arterius and Kryik, pleasure. Commander is resting, but lowered medication in preparation for your arrival, should wake up soon enough. Will be in lab if have further need of me.” Mordin dipped his head with a quick smile before disappearing into another room.

“I take it that’s the esteemed Dr. Solus that I’ve heard so much about?” Nihlus asked, chuckling as Garrus shook his head exasperatedly.

“Brilliant doesn’t even begin to encompass Mordin, and his time with STG didn’t seem to make him prefer to negotiate instead of just outright kill someone.” Garrus warned as he and Nihlus headed away from the med bay and toward the mess.

Saren entered the med bay quietly, glancing around for a moment before leaning against the counter, arms crossed easily over his chest, and watching Shepard. He could see her chest rising and falling at an even pace, hear each breath she took and released, could smell how she was soaked in the antiseptic smell of the medical station. But underneath that sharp scent he smelled the fear and agony coursing through her, would never forget that smell when he had first found her trying to drag her fellow soldier away from the Thresher Maws. He recalled how pitiful she looked, but she had been strong enough to stay on her feet for quite a while before falling, had let her terror rampage through her mind but still kept a tight grip on what she knew she had to do.

Her voice pulled him back to the room, thick and hoarse. “Garrus..?”

“No, Commander.” He replied, watching closely as she struggled to focus, turning her head only for it to fall heavily to the side. “You are aware of where you are?”

“On the Menolith, away from the Citadel. Too.. too many people.”She told him, seeming to come to slowly, acting groggy and, if Saren didn’t know any better, like she was drunk. He watched as, once she was more aware, her hands moved to her head and she bit her lip, breathing elevated as her breaths shook with each exhale; whether it was from the physical pain or the emotional trauma, Saren couldn’t be certain until she shifted and flinched harshly before curling into herself.

“Commander.” He spoke, drawing her attention. Saren watched as, after a moment, she froze before her eyes opened fully. Shepard slowly gulped and looked over to where he leaned against the counter. And then she was pressed up against the back of the bed, knees pulled up against her chest as she muttered under her breath and began to cry. “No, no… I can’t still be there. Garrus said it was okay, he promised it was okay..”

The words, how utterly lost and sad they sounded even without a second larynx, softened Saren’s gaze as he watched the daughter of someone he had once called a friend. “Commander, you are safe here, aboard the Menolith. You have no need to be afraid of anyone here, Vakarian is just outside.” He told her, his voice making her flinch away; when she moved and pressed her back against the wall though, crying out painfully and nearly falling to the floor, Saren moved quickly to keep her upright; his hands on her upper arms were firm, but surprisingly gentle as he helped her to sit up in her bed.

“You can’t be here… you can’t be here.” she muttered as she struggled with her fears, clutching at her head and speaking of screams that wouldn’t stop. When she glowed faintly, Saren quickly brought up a barrier before she could overtake him with her biotics, glad for it when her power was discharged from her in an arc.

“Commander, we need to speak with one another. Vakarian is under the impression that by doing so, it will give you a closure you lack.” His patience was surprising even to him, rather steady as he watched her flinch away from him, try to pull her arms from his grasp weakly as her hands pushed at his armor.

“You’ll kill him… you took Toombs and left me. You left me there, I couldn’t find Toombs.”

“Commander, Toombs is alive. He is being cared for in an undisclosed location, coordinates were sent to a mutual correspondent weeks ago. I need you to listen to me, Commander.” He told her, hissing angrily as his patience did begin to wear thin. He shook her lightly when she seemed stuck on having tried to get Toombs out but failing, and the growl that reverberated through his chest snapped her attention directly onto him.

“Commander Shepard. I have been asked to explain a great deal to you, do I have your attention?” He asked angrily, voice hard and eyes glaring. When she said nothing he pressed forward, beginning by telling her the truth behind the bombs she had witnessed him working with when she was a child, dismantling rather than setting to detonate, of how he had known her father and worked closely with him many times before his death. He informed her of his undercover assignment, watched the wheels turning in her head as he gave her what details he was able to about why and where and when and how.

An hour passed, and when he felt he had completed his explanation he was surprised to see she simply watched him, face calm even as tear tracks stained her cheeks and more welled up at her eyes. When she closed them, the tears falling, she let out a sob that made Saren tense stiffly. She pressed her head into her hands and wept, uncaring that her supposed mortal enemy was in the room and listening to her. When she seemed to make no move to quiet, Saren hesitantly pulled her into an awkward embrace, before one hand cupped the back of her head and pressed her forehead into his shoulder, chin resting atop her head as he sighed.

“It was necessary, Commander, your hatred being channeled onto me. At least in the beginning. When your father and mother were killed, I mourned their loss briefly, and I watched you and your brother as best as I was able to. I hadn’t realized you had smuggled yourselves to Ilium until just after he was killed and you had been injured, but I entrusted Matriarch Benezia with your life when I learned T’Soni had befriended you earlier. You were never meant to have appeared on Akuze, Commander, I never would have allowed what happened to take place had I known.” He confided in her, and she calmed enough to pull away from him, purple blue eyes full of the same grief he held.

“You and my father?” She asked softly, closing her eyes and tucking her chin.

“Were compatriots, perhaps he may have called us friends. He was a contact for my dealings with your species, among the most intelligent engineers and resourceful beyond what most humans are. You are much like he was, Commander. You share his tenacity.” He said, mandibles flicking irately at the end. “Vakarian insisted upon this, he is waiting with Nihlus. I will leave you to think on what I have just divulged. Commander, you are among only a handful of others to know of this. Do not repeat any of it, or death will be the kindest of mercies.” He told her, quickly striding out of the room and leaving her alone.

Shepard pulled her knees up to rest her forehead against them gently, her back aching and burning, but the rest of her feeling numb. She had always suspected something off with Saren, though her hatred would inevitably burn the suspicion away, but could never place anything; him saying he had been friends with her father was… believable, just because she still remembered exactly what kind of person he had been. And she wept again, softly this time, because she knew she couldn’t deny what she had just been told, that her beliefs had been so very wrong for half of her life now.

When the door hissed open again, she looked up to see Garrus soon sitting in the chair nearby. She gave him a tentative smile, and his own left her feeling relieved that she wasn’t alone in wondering what exactly was going on, and why Saren was in such a position. “What do you want to do, Shepard?” He asked, and she looked down at the floor for some time before answering.

“I don't know, Garrus. He was my dad’s friend…” She told him, groaning as she shifted the injured side of her back to a less uncomfortable position; in the short time since taking Shepard back aboard she had become only slightly less frantic, had begun healing quickly with Mordin’s help, but Garrus wasn't sure if she was ready to make a decision along these lines. “I don't know… What am I supposed to do?” She asked, dropping her head back on her knees and rolling onto her side, facing away from him. Now though, he saw clarity in her, heard it in her question, and was glad that Saren had agreed to his request.

“They'll be here for a few days, just think things over when you can. Did Mordin take a look at that yet?” She shook her head, prompting Garrus to rise and help her sit up fully. After pulling the robe she had been wearing away, he gently removed the bandages that covered a large portion of her back.

Nihlus chose the same moment to walk through the door, speaking about something or another before growing silent as he got an eyeful of the acid burn. “Damn.” He whispered out, stepping closer to take a better look. He cast his experienced eye over it, hesitating to look at Garrus before receiving a nod from the other Turian. “How sore is it?” He asked, bringing a hand up and running it along the edge.

“It's.. Worse after getting up, or taking a shower. Mordin’s been applying something to it every few hours that helps. I don't have the range of motion I did before in my shoulder, though.” Nihlus hummed thoughtfully as he pulled off his glove and pressed his thumb against the edge of take burn, watching her as she flinched and moved away.

“You'll get it back as soon as you can move around. Which you should be doing with it like it is anyway; it'll hurt for the first few days, but the sooner you can start moving the better. I've been where you are, took me out for a few weeks but it gets easier. I'm sure that Doctor of yours would be fine as long as someone was at hand if you overdid anything.” He commented, patting her arm easily before stepping back and letting Garrus apply the topical medication Mordin had made, followed by bandaging her up again.

“So, now that you're both up to speed, I'd love to hear what you're thinking, Shepard.” He said at length once Shepard had gingerly laid back on the bed. “Garrus and I have already talked it over, and that's for him to tell you later, but I'm curious. It's a lot to take in, I'm well aware, but this is far larger than simply keeping your mouth shut and setting it aside because you don't want to accept it.”

“I believe him, Nihlus.” Shepard said softly, looking over at the red male tiredly.

“I get that you've chased him time and again because you were told he- what?” He sputtered to a halt, blinking owlishly at her, confused and having to roll her words over in his mind again. “Just like that? I mean, it took me a while to let it sink in and he was my mentor, and friend, before this all happened. I'm to believe you're accepting it so quickly because?”

She smiled, though it was strained and thin. “Because I knew my dad.” Nihlus was quiet as he watched her, watched as Garrus laid a hand over her own and squeezed gently, watched as she turned into him and closed her eyes, brow furrowing.

“Get some rest, Shepard. We can talk later. It's been a long trip, we had to jump from Intai’Sei and then give some ships the run around for a few hours. I'm for a bunk, myself.” Nihlus told them, waving as he turned and headed out; he didn't miss the soft humming Garrus offered to Shepard as he left, casting a glance over his shoulder to see him hunched over her after pulling his chair closer.

\-----

Mordin was happy to hear that Shepard wanted to try to get around, to at least get up and walk out into the mess for a short while. He told her that as long as she was careful, kept to the limitations her body was certain of at this point, she was free to do as she pleased. While he didn't tell her he preferred an eye on her while moving around for the first little while, either Garrus or Nihlus always seemed to be around and had suspiciously nothing whatsoever that needed a Spectre’s attention. It didn't bother her much for the first couple days, her strength far less than she had hoped, and they tended to hover around like she would slip and fall at any moment.

So she tiptoed out of the med bay the third evening instead, made sure to leave a few pillows under her blanket, cringing at how childish the action was but finding no regret for taking it. Donning her cloak, she took it slow as she grabbed a few things and then headed for the port observation, intent on watching the stars drift by in peace. Until someone noticed she was gone and was frantic to find her, anyway.

Once she had her favorite blanket, a soft fabric and dark purple, along with an old and worn paperback book that had belonged to Anderson, Shepard was in the observation room and seated on the couch with her legs up and tucked beneath her. But she found her mind unable to focus on the words, exhaustion pulling her away from the book as her eyes lazily watched the stars passing by slowly. When the door hissed open Shepard was already half asleep, unaware the door had opened at all.

When she dropped her book, however, she started awake in a panic, eyes wide as she looked around to gain her bearings for a moment; once sure it had simply been a dream, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves, sighing quietly at last before moving to grab her fallen book. Rubbing at her face, she blinked rapidly when another hand moved to grab the book for her, holding it up and reading the cover.

“You have your mother's taste in reading material.” Saren commented dryly, handing the book to Shepard in the next moment. “She was.. A very colorful creature.”

Shepard, at a loss for words, just took the book and dipped her head in agreement; her mother had been colorful, indeed. “I assumed you would be asleep with everyone else, I'm sorry if I woke you.” She told him, moving to rise and leave now that she had been found out.

“You're free to do whatever you want on your own ship, Commander.” He told her sharply, moving to stand before the wide window. Shepard flinched at his tone, biting at her lip anxiously. When she looked back to Saren she saw something that was beyond the Spectre and soldier in him; he was just one person, one tired person and she was disturbing him. Of course he wouldn't bunk in the crews quarters like Garrus and Nihlus, he was a solitary being through and through.

“Sorry, I didn't realize you would be staying in here.” She apologized slowly, watching as he half turned to eye her.

“Nihlus snores, loudly. Best to avoid that whenever one can if you wish for even a few hours sleep. Be glad you still sleep in the med bay.” He told her, voice tight and grim; Shepard nodded stiffly, not sure what to expect. They had been enemies, at least on her end for over a decade and now that they just weren't, could they simply make light conversation? It was confusing for her, even though she accepted that he wasn't who she thought he had been.

“You need not fear me, Commander, I have no intentions of harming someone who can barely hold themselves together as it is. More a waste on my part.” He grumbled, and she bristled slightly at that.

“Feel free to be ambushed by Thresher Maws and see how well your plated ass holds up after.” She growled, glaring for a moment before catching herself; this was not Garrus, or Nihlus, this was a dangerous Turian she couldn't begin to claim she was even acquainted with. But he scoffed at her only, and Shepard had the distinct feeling that she amused him, even if only for a moment or two.

“Yes, true as that may be, you can barely even walk around the ship without tiring. I would like to believe I have a greater strength to draw upon even with an injury like your own.” Another not so veiled insult. Is this who he was? A prideful and bitter bastard who had nothing better to do than tear people down? And her father called him a friend, maybe?

“Shut up, Saren.” She told him darkly, not amused in the slightest, as she turned and headed for the door. Saren was quick to watch as each step seemed to jar her, her pace slowed further as she used a hand to help keep her upright against the couch.

“For the Spirits sake, sit down Commander.” He growled out, his imposing form turned fully toward her. She looked over her shoulder at him like he had sprouted a second set of mandibles atop his fringe, clearly taken by surprise at the concern he showed. “We discussed this, I don't repeat myself. Sit down, sleep; I'm well aware of what Vakarian has been whispering about in regards to your health. The bruising under your eyes does nobody any favors, either.” She hesitated for a moment too long again, and Saren flicked his mandibles irritably before he was gripping her arm and guiding her back onto the couch.

He sat heavily next to her, a good distance between them still and one she was grateful for. “You've informed Nihlus that you believe me, but I cannot help but wonder if that is the truth.”

“I knew my father, and I know what grief looks like. Regret, too. He always… He always told us stories of this mysterious friend of his when we were children, said that his friend was a good person but had a hard time showing that to others because of his job. Keeping the galaxy safe does that to a person, he would say, and then he would dive into things Liam and I thought were just fairy tales. But I've read your mission reports, I pulled them up yesterday, and I know he was talking about you. He was a Spectre, too?” She asked him, but Saren shook his head.

“No, he wasn't a Spectre. I told him I would put his name in, that I would make him one. He was quick to refuse me, polite but quick. His family was where he wanted to be, even if you all would have still been taken care of elsewhere. Your father told me that he'd prefer to simply remain as some ‘unknown engineer who was happy to help out his friend, who just happened to be a famous Spectre.’ Bragging rights for your neighbors, he claimed.”

“Then why did you share your missions with him? No offense, but you don't seem the type to make and keep friends.”

He huffed at her words, fingers twitching. “He asked, I simply had nothing better to do while I waited for him to repair something of mine.”

“You traveled around the Galaxy and every time you needed repairs done you went to my dad?” She asked, eyebrow raised and a disbelieving look on her face. “I knew he was good at his job, but he wasn't that good. He'd bring some stuff home and it would sit and sit for weeks until he finally did something with it.”

“Your father was among the greatest engineers of your species, Commander. Yes, I did return to him for any repairs needed because I knew I was getting only the best and fairest treatment. Especially from a human. The Relay incident had barely ended but a decade or so prior to our meeting, and to my knowledge your father fought in the war before receiving a medical discharge.” The fact that Saren knew her father had been discharged after the war had ended surprised her, as well as ever so slightly endeared the brusque Turian to her. Just a tiny bit, at least.

“Yet you're known across the galaxy as one of the biggest obstacles for humans becoming part of the Citadel, part of anything within the galactic community. You claim you hate humans, you act like we're so far beneath you, but you were friends with my dad? He wasn't anyone special, Saren, at least not to the alliance after..”

“Losing his leg? Yes, they did toss him behind a desk too quickly, didn't they? He never shared how it happened, I believe.” Saren spoke softly, clasping his hands together across his stomach and seemingly becoming lost in thought. “My brother, he was the cause of his sudden… lifestyle change. He returned to Earth shortly after receiving the prosthetic limb from my contacts among the administration board on Noveria. Your father had wanted to aid me in finding my brother, even after Desolas had ruined his candidacy.” He paused, eyes narrowing as he looked to Shepard, her rapt attention on him as she began to struggle to keep her eyes open.

“Do I hate your kind? Yes, after what humans did to my brother and your species’ desire for power always crosses into destructive territory, but there have been very few who I have grown to tolerate apart from the entirety of your species. Rest, Shepard, lest your father rise from his grave and attempt to berate me for impeding your recovery.”

Before he rose to leave, her sleepy question stopped him, and he slowly sank back into his seat. “What was he like, Saren? Did he.. Did he really love us that much that he'd give up his career? There were plenty of ways for him to have been reinstated and go off world, become a Spectre.”

Saren sighed heavily, weighing his words carefully in his mind. “I have never met another so devoted to his family than Vincent Shepard, Commander. I often found myself wanting a relationship like he shared with your mother, were I anyone else, envious of what a human had and I lacked. But he was more devoted to his wife and children than his career as an engineer, despite his profound aptitude. I learned a great many things from your father, Shepard, and I made him a promise that I have been hard pressed to keep these last few months.”

Shepard heard the regret lacing his words, but her mind was too heavy for her to voice any questions, to ask what promise he had made and felt he had to keep. Instead, she fell asleep listening to Saren’s steady breathing, heard him utter something just as she was pulled under but found herself unable to make out the words.  _ It's for the best, probably. _ She thought before conceding her conscious mind to the gentle pull.


End file.
